A Friend in Need
by garfunkel and oates
Summary: Annie didn't know nothing about anything, but that didn't stop her from stealing New Vegas. Boone wasn't too sure on the girl, but he followed anyway. F!Courier Boone. Rated M for all the good stuff.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hello**! _

_Welcome to a stupendously long Boone story that I have slaved away on for about a year or so now. I really hope my sobbing into the keyboard has amounted to something of interest for you ladies! Honestly though, if my pessimism hasn't turned you off yet, I really want you to know that this story is an investment. _

_This isn't a story for easy smut (sorry! I started it with those intentions but I lost control!), and is mainly focused around the concept of **finding out who you are**_**.** _I have full intentions of including adult content (excellent sex) later in the story, but I'm hoping it will be warranted. _

_But please, give me a chance. I will take you on a journey ❤_

_**EDIT**: 31/05/13 - still in progress! Stay tuned!_

* * *

Boone's shift was nearly over. The sun was peeking from behind him, curling up from the desert's stomach like a tired old man. He was tired too, he knew that, but that didn't stop him from keeping a keen eye on the distance. The roads were bare of travellers and merchants, no prospectors or mercs either. It was too late for the nocturnal animals to be out, and too early for the day dwellers. It was the quiet time – the pre-dawn lull. There was something about the sun rising for another day that settled an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach; like his body was rejecting the idea of another 24 hours of miserable life. That small hour at the end of his shift always wrapped up his head with deep nausea.

Something (a flash of black actually) caught his eye. The road down from the Repconn test site was suddenly occupied by a little black dot - a little black dot that was strapped with a jiggling backpack and followed by three ghouls.

Snatching the scope with his left eye, he struck his vision to catch sight of a woman, no… a girl belting down the road towards Novac. From what he could make of her face told him that she was in trouble, her old boots spitting chunks of rotted rubber behind her like a ripper to a cactus. Taking the fleshy zombies out with ease, he watched the girl harass her gun; a beat-up looking pistol that had probably jammed. Her heavy footfalls stopped when she looked over her shoulder, slowing to a brisk walk away from the test site once she felt the presence of a higher force.

Boone was surprised (as surprised as he could manage) to see a stranger coming out from the test site- the old building having been abandoned for months after being overrun by ghouls. But the girl seemed rather excited to see civilization, tucking her gun into the saggy holster of her armor and letting her shoulders relax when she looked right at him – or the dinosaur rather. There seemed to be time to waste however, the woman toddling towards the small town at a snail's pace. She seemed to take in the world around her, breached by the idea of a desert that seemed all too familiar to her.

Reaching the outskirts of the motel, she threw her backpack off, tossing her useless gun at the ground before kicking it away immediately - annoyed at its decay. The gun wasn't hers though, given to her by a tired old doctor a few miles west…but it was in no condition to use. Perhaps the old man had thought she had the ability to use a one? Technically, using a gun was common knowledge in the wasteland - but this woman knew nothing about anything and the idea frustrated her. Whose idea was it to turn her loose on life without a clue as to who she was? Was that even fair?

She grew a calmer feeling when she realised that the wasteland didn't have any rules... that was one thing she could remember. The thought left her feeling a little better. There was a little pride in knowing she had had the grace to wake up in a world where she was free to do whatever she wanted. At first, the thought of leaving the small bed at the doctor's house seemed terrifying, but the way her old boots molded perfectly around her feet reminded her that she had done it all before. Still, she couldn't shake the foggy cloud that sat at the back of her mind and prodded her curiosity. It was if all of her senses had been smothered and she had been left to start all over again - a clean slate in a very dirty Vegas.

Annie didn't know exactly what she was doing. She had tried Primm first on account of her old job - which seemed like a good lead until she was shot at repeatedly and heatedly by a bunch of filthy men in leather. Apparently prisoners of some sort had overrun the town and the girl felt she wasn't well equipped to go up against a bunch of dirty old jailbirds. Although the thought of it excited her a little, she felt she had a bulging sense of rationality she had never understood before. Then again, she may have been a wasteland saint before that god damn asshole shot her in the head... how would she have known?

But she had also tried Sloan, and apparently the road ahead was crawling with Deathclaws. Although it seemed like an excellent idea, the girl decided against the risk and turned back to where she was buried. With nowhere to go, she cut across land for a third time, aiming for a small town named Novac. Now, the gentle residents of Goodsprings who had put her up for a week had aimed her towards the dinosaur in hopes she would find out who put the hole in her head.

All she could work with though was a couple of cigarette butts and the fact that the man was well dressed but rude. The residents seemed more caught up with some more escaped convicts (who had apparently been terrorizing the wasteland for a while) to really give her any more information. And that was all she had to deal with - that, or she was faced with the option of talking to the eerie robot that had pulled her from her shallow hole. And that's all she had, other than that stupid gun, a humble stack of caps and a note from the Mojave Express.

Cleaning the dirt from her face with the cloudy tap water, Annie pressed her hair off of her cheeks and sucked them in. The face that stared back at her was probably hers for her entire life, but it didn't feel like it. She had no idea who that woman was - with her thin, bitten lips and dried-out doe eyes. She looked like she had done a few hard years out in the sun, but she admired the way it made her look less naive. Attempting to judge herself by her looks, Annie couldn't place herself in a certain spectrum of attractive or 'pretty bad' - so she plonked herself right on the brink of semi-decent looking and kinda plain. The average wastelander who had woken up only to start again.

Jeanie-Mae had rented her a room for cheap, which was great for Annie's miserable cap collection. She hadn't slept in a bed since she had left Goodsprings for the third time, and most of the napping was spent tucked in a rock face looking down at the Repconn center. Turns out she could climb pretty well, which she found out after she had to scale a cliff face to escape a rogue gecko. It was too bad there were ghouls lurking around the old Repconn center because Annie enjoyed her prime position there - having her head high off the ground giving her a small air of comfort as she napped above the rest of the world that scuttled below her.

Self-worth issues aside, Annie knew she had a sniper to thank.

It was rather dark outside by the time Annie had kicked herself into gear and the air was cool but blew a soft breeze across the dry courtyard. The girl could see the small tornados sweeping and sewing dust across the flat plain, sifting through the chain-link fence that surrounded Novac only to crumble a few feet into freedom. Annie had hidden in her room all day, allowing herself to rest up and wind down, and when she felt better about herself she managed to burst out of her musky prison and set herself on a path. It had to be at least midnight, but that didn't stop her from slipping up the front steps of the dinosaur and through the unlocked door.

The dark and empty gift shop greeted her unenthusiastically - but she was drawn in by the soft glow of the dim bulb at the top of the stairs to her left. The lovely warm light that seeped down the steps drew her to its feet, up and up the stairs that lead her to a single door. Annie felt she wasn't as graceful as she could have been in her ascent to the door, barely able to keep quiet in her ugly old boots that were starting to fall apart. The heel had started to separate itself from the sole and it left the girl with an echoing _clop_ every time she took a step.

She stopped herself at the handle, suddenly worried by her initial ideas. Just because whoever was in there had saved her life before didn't exactly mean they didn't have the ability to shoot her on sight. Then again, she honestly had nothing better to do and the thought of a bit of action gave her a soft squirt of euphoria to fend off the headache that threatened her horizons. Maybe whoever was behind that door had something they knew about her - like a piece of the puzzle that was 'Annie'. Or maybe not.

The door easily opened at the twist of her wrist, revealing the back of a man who had his foot propped up between two teeth in the dinosaur's mouth. He definitely wasn't a little boy; his shoulders branching out wide and strong as his back arched in surprise at her intrusion. He hadn't been expecting her at all. Boone had allowed himself to lose himself in whatever his brain was brewing in the basement - the man having no choice but to turn on auto-pilot and pick off big mama geckos in the distance like a robot with a trigger finger.

"God damn it, don't sneak up on me like that." The second she met his eyes, she registered that the man was attractive. It was in that moment that Annie remembered the first thing about her old self; he was her type. The way his forehead creased at the swipe of her tongue across her bottom lip just made her warmer inside. "What do you want?"

"Hello to you too." Annie grinned at the poor man, stepping back to brace herself against the rickety wooden door. "Jeanie-Mae said you were the one that saved my ass up near Repconn this morning." She rustled in the pockets of her charming merc outfit, pulling out twenty caps. "It's not much, but you did a good job in not letting me die... so thanks, soldier." His eyes scanned the currency and he shook his head, turning back around as if the conversation had finished.

She balked. _What a rude bastard_, she thought, _maybe he was the one that shot me_? Shaking off the insulting thought and realizing that he'd never look good in a chequered suit, she leant against the doorframe. "Were you expecting someone else?" She pressed lightly, keen to egg the man into more words. He was a sight for sore eyes, having to deal with squishy ghoul faces for the past couple of days had turned her insides to goo. There he was with solid flesh and a tight jaw, the epitome of masculinity and humanity - a hardworking man with a gun and not a snarling bucket of flesh that liked to scratch and bite... But it would have been okay if he wanted to too.

"Maybe I am." He mumbled. "But not like you."

"What's wrong with me?"

"Huh." Boone turned back around, taking in for the first time what he had first thought to be a girl, but obviously was a woman, who was staring right back at him. The moon had swelled up her brown eyes to the size of plates, and even though her thick, black hair hid most of them he knew they were just as curious as his. There was nothing other than blatant chemistry chugging through his brain, telling him that she was something _else_. In a moment of weakness, a slip of the mind, he let his brows rise and mumbled again "Maybe it should have been you I was expecting all along."

"Not even going to buy me dinner first?" She questioned with that same stupid grin, watching his eyes turn steel blue again. The beret on his head was branded NCR, but his clothes told her he was not really a part of anything. Whatever brain shield he had put up again was a little more difficult to read than she had figured. It was like looking at a chalkboard, but her brain pushed further.

He thought for a moment, the wash of grief shifting through his torso and into his brain turned his thoughts to his late wife. The thought of another woman in such close proximity and showing him more attention than necessary was almost repulsive to him. But her eyes said otherwise, and even though his face didn't show it he had cracked.

"I think you should leave."

"Do you treat everyone like this, soldier?" Annie didn't like how he was talking to her, but she stood still in the doorframe with that cheeky look on her face. Boone's head was swimming with this overflow of forgotten feelings but his face stayed stony. Maybe if he literally picked her up and threw her out of the dinosaur... say that she was high on drugs and it was just self-defense... _Or_, his brain chugged on unhappily, he could just turn around and pretend she wasn't there.

When he spun to face the desert again, Annie's eyes rolled in their sockets before stretching up the doorframe like a vine. "I don't know what your problem is. You and I both know that the world works on favors. You scratched my back now I should probably scratch yours. Good for karma, they say."

He remained silent, his hand clinging to his rifle with such grip it probably would have crushed the shell of a scorpion. When he didn't say anything, she turned to leave. "My room is the top level, closest to the lobby. Come see me if you change your mind."

She slipped out and shut the door, leaning against it momentarily to shake herself. The words had leaked out of her mouth like slippery saliva, pooling incessantly in the mouth of the dinosaur like a warm flame. Her voice was strong, confident and possibly sexy - like a lever had been pulled inside of her the moment she saw the opportunity of a handsome man. _Did I always speak like this? _she asked herself, starting down the stairs towards Cliff's counter. The feeling of accomplishment stirred in her stomach. _Probably._

* * *

Leaning on the rickety railing of the balcony and sucking down a cigarette, Annie watched lazily along as the day sniper headed to his post. The night sniper, or otherwise known to Annie as 'the angry man in the beret', passed him without a word while heading towards his room. He noticed Annie before he could disappear into his murky nightmares, his blue eyes shooting up from beneath his sunglasses only to follow the falling cigarette butt to the ground. The courier smiled at him but he kept walking, making sure the day sniper was inside and out of sight.

He returned to the foot of the stairs to stare up at her expectantly._ No one is awake,_ he reminded himself, _and no one will be able to hear me._ The residents of Novac did not have the sharpest senses, other than the ranger in the cabin but he was often sleeping heavily with pain medication. It would be safe to talk to the stranger because she obviously was not from around there _and_ could quite possibly get the job done with no problems. Annie grinned at him, the small gap between her two front teeth reminding him that she wasn't as sweet as she looked - the girl hopping down the stairs with ease to stand on the first step in attempt to even their height difference.

"I need someone I can trust." Boone started, stopped by her amused stare.

"I'm flattered."

"… You're not from around here," he continued on, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "And that's a start."


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello! _

_Welcome to chapter two! I just wanted to say thank you for making it this far. I am currently in the middle of trying to rope all the earlier chapters in and attempting to sift through errors and plot holes and make the story a little more round. If you spot anything of major importance, do not hesitate to let me know via message ❤_

* * *

It was hard finding anyone who _really_ knew anything of use about Carla Boone. No one seemed to want to talk much about her, and people brushed Annie off at the opening sentence. All Annie had really gathered about the little 'missing persons case' was the idea that the night sniper managed to score himself a complete knockout and had somehow fucked it up greatly. It grew amusing to her as time passed, understanding that he did look like a man down on his luck. Jeannie-Mae at the front desk said the girl had run off on him. And Annie couldn't blame her - seeing as Novac was seriously a dump, packaged with the people who seemed slightly backwards and simple.

There was only one more person she hadn't had the graces of meeting - the daytime sniper. He was still working his daytime shift, the courier not too happy about the idea of returning to the claustrophobic dinosaur head too soon. Being up there with the hulking night sniper was bad enough, and she didn't really want to meet the probably twice-as-big-and-depressed day shifter. She found it appropriate to sneak into his room, however, finding that easier than confronting her imaginary fears of a second grump in a beret. It was close to sundown, so she had to act fast. Slipping into the bedroom after wasting four lock picks, she was greeted with an open space; the couches moved and shifted as if accommodating a whole family. Novac's hotel rooms weren't known for their space or class. Annie couldn't imagine raising a family there.

Catching sight of the glowing terminal in the corner, Annie bent her elbows to the table. The keyboard was worn of its keys, the machine buzzing tiredly probably due to its age and the layer of dust on its screen. Pressing the arrow keys, Annie clicked on the _Khan Hospitality, _the only file available. The name rang a bell, making her head twang with an uncomfortable throb as the screen displayed a small letter titled to a man named Manny. The bells in her head were going mental, but she ignored them stiffly – as trying to read was a hard thing for her. Everything was always blurry, even her hands some days.

_Benny. Stolen package. Boulder City. McMurphy._

Rubbing her head in attempt to stop the fast-moving thoughts, she stayed in that position for a couple of minutes. It was like she knew something but her brain just wouldn't give it up. Benny must have been the man who had shot her, and had stolen her package. Was she Benny's boss? _No… I work for the Mojave Express, don't forget that_, her mind barked back at her. Benny, though… Who was Benny?

"And what the fuck do you think you're doing in my room?"

The voice from the door startled her but it didn't stop her from straightening up slowly, keeping her hands where he could see them. Annie didn't need to get shot again, that would just be a huge pain in the ass… or the head. She didn't know. Turning around, she squinted from the miniscule light seeping through the doorway, and focused on a broad-shouldered man with a rifle in his hands. The gun caught her attention first, then the beret, but when her eyes connected with his the gun dropped to his side.

"Anna? What are you doing here?"

Manny. Manny Vargas. She had seen him beat a man half to death on the cold dust of the Mojave Desert.

"Manny!" She sighed as comfortably as she could, her hands going straight to her hips in an overenthusiastic attempt to seem pleasant. "Manny Vargas, it's been a while!" The voice that had debuted with Boone was back and throwing itself out of her throat.

He seemed taken aback by her welcome, staring at her place at the computer.

"What are you doing here? In my room?" He asked, putting the gun down at the door but keeping it at arm's length when he noticed the gummy pistol on her hip.

"I'm looking for the Khans." She beamed at him, eyes glinting. _Oh boy, _she bit back a pathetic squeak, _how can I possibly get out of this? _"Heard you'd pulled up a chair in Novac, figured you'd know where to find 'em. Surely they still wouldn't be in, uh-…."

"Bitter Springs?" He finished for her, tensing a bit. The words spilling from her mouth had jumped out – finding it easy to speak to the man who sat on the brink of her brain like an old friend. There was a lot going on in her head that added to the bursting excitement, even though she was a little scared. Praying that she didn't bust a stitch, she looked at his bed and headed over to it, sitting on the end before looking up at him.

His mouth twitched and he lowered himself to the arm of his chair. Her eyes flickered back to his beret and he caught her eye, taking it off slowly. "Yeah… I wasn't there, you know. I faked sick to get out of it, because… you know…"

"Yeah…" Annie didn't know at all, chewing her lip while watching him turn the beret in his hands. "I'm a courier now." She pointed at her pipboy, as if that meant anything. "And you've obviously been with the NCR."

"Toured with the NCR for a few years. First recon." He shrugged. "It's a better feeling – giving back instead of taking." He broke off, letting his eyes take in her face. It was like he was reliving just what she had as his eyes flickering with a horrified curiosity. "What got you out of the gang?"

"I had enough." She blinked at him, breaking into an uncertain smile. That's where she could place that man's face – angry, dirty, bloody in the swirling dust bowl. "Not a kid anymore." Her hand absent-mindedly went to her jaw, cradling it with the filthy palm, crossing her ankles to keep her dignity hidden.

"All that growing up grew you a voice box, I hear." He leant back, putting the beret back on before standing up. "Scotch, whiskey or vodka?"

"Anything stronger?" She asked him gently and he puffed a laugh.

"Not here." He kept his back turned while he poured a couple of glasses. "And are you in town to kill me?" It was her time to snuffle at him.

"No, no, to be honest I can't get this damn gun to work for the life of me." She crossed an arm over her chest after lighting a smoke, letting the room develop its own chemical heaven to contrast the carpet hell. "And besides, if I was here to kill you I wouldn't risk it now that I know you're a big soldier now."

"Never could shoot for shit, could you?" He laughed at her, handing her a glass and sitting back down on the chair. "So why're you looking for the old ball and chain?"

"Let's just say that the guy in the nice suit that was here has something of mine. I know he was travelling with some Khans, Manny, I just figured you'd know where they were heading."

"Boulder City." He squinted at Annie, taking note of the mass of hair she hadn't always had. She sipped her drink awkwardly, taking one last drag of the cigarette before putting it out in the half burnt ashtray. "You came all of this way because you 'heard' I was here?"

"Better than wandering around aimlessly in this shit hole."

"A courier should at least know her way around. Specially with, well, is that a pipboy?" He stared down at her and she fidgeted slightly, trying to keep up his eye contact. Her mind kicked into overdrive. "Where the hell did you get that?"

She had to bullshit her way through this conversation, and so far she was going well but he had somehow caught her out. Annie didn't need him to know she was basically brain-dead - he could have fed her any information he wanted, and that could have been very bad.

Still, the frames of memories that flicked through her mind told her that he was a good man, even though most of those memories were of him covered in dirt and high out of his brain. She hadn't heard much of the Great Khans since she had awoken in Goodsprings, but by the way Manny was talking about them lead Annie to believe that they weren't the most saintly.

The words 'Bitter Springs' bought back a feeling that swallowed her like a slimy throat. It was always so hot, but her hands were like ice and the sand was always mixed with needles and boot heels. There was a sense of pain felt with an abandoned bedroll, piled high with water bottles and chew tobacco. A man between her legs, not Manny though, his hair golden and tanned from the midday sun. Another man with his hand down the front of Manny's pants.

A laugh forced out of her throat and Manny jumped, leaning forward in the chair to check if she was okay. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him, causing the man to cautiously lean back again.

"So I bet you've got something for that night sniper, haven't you? I can't blame you - he's very handsome." Her voice rattled along the train tracks, heading straight into uncharted territory. She was taking a wild risk there, running on a limb but still holding enough confidence to keep her voice steady. She straightened her back, lighting another cigarette. He recoiled, hands tightening on the rests of the chair. Her grin became clear – she had caught him off guard. "Must have been pretty bad, huh? Getting your best friend to move to Novac only to have his wife get in the way."

He stayed silent, letting her cross her legs underneath her. She tucked her tunic to cover herself, leaning back to stare at him.

"It's not like that." The man finally spoke up, watching her lean over to ash.

"So you didn't kill her?"

"No!" He shook his head, taking a breath. "When I first heard the news, I thought I owed someone big time. I figured Boone would get over it, but it's been nearly a year and nothing's changed."

"But he seems like such a nice guy." She scoffed at him and Manny shied away even further. Licking her lips, Annie sat up straight to try to catch his eye. _So Boone was his name, huh?_

"He was… until Carla went missing." Shifting uneasily in his seat, the man didn't feel as comfortable as he did ten minutes ago. He burnt with hatred for whoever had gotten her to speak. "Listen, I have to get some sleep."

"Just play along with me here, man." Annie whined at him, causing him to stand. "Come on, Manny, I was just kidding."

"I need a good nights sleep or I won't be able to concentrate tomorrow." He opened the door for her. She stood to full height, brushing her hair over one shoulder before stubbing her smoke out for the last time. "Come say goodbye before you leave."

"You don't mean that." Annie was slightly irritated by the way he had reacted. Maybe Boone was more than just a soft spot for Manny. He said nothing and she let out a deep sigh, stepping out the door.

"I do." He finally told her. "Goodnight Anna."

Taking one last look up at the man, the only sturdy memory she had, Annie shook her head. The man brought her memories of swirling dust clouds and the taste of blood, torn denim vests and dirty syringes glinting under the harsh desert sun. She had regretted turning the conversation sour, much preferring to sit and drink the night away with stories that she'd never heard before but lived through them fully. She had lost though, quite terribly too. The man had clammed up at even the mention of Boone.

"Goodnight Manny. It could be worse." She sighed at him, smiling her nicest with the setting sun as her backdrop. Manny felt bad for kicking her out, knowing that there was something off with the girl. If she could trek through the desert just to find him, then there was something lurking the bigger picture. But his ego was bruised and his heart felt trampled. _She'd promised not to say anything._

"I know."


	3. Chapter 3

_EDIT: 07/06/13_

* * *

Still no closer to finding out where Boone's wife had gone, Annie was lying face down on her bed. She had a terrible headache from the constant revelations she was having all at once – the Khans, the men, the relentless coldness of her hands. It was like she was transitioning from what she thought she was into something completely different. There was nothing that could describe the feeling that she got when she remembered something else – like an intense weight off of her shoulders.

With Manny's help, her teenage years were coming back like beads of sand running through her fingers.

He had called her Anna, which is what she guessed was her real name. Annie was close though – she would stick with Annie. There was no _real_ sound to her memories though - like a silent movie that ran through without pause. Just deep breathing and lots of raucous laughter - _happy_ laughter in the faces of people that she felt she didn't care for. Blood, lots of blood and a thrilling feeling of arousal and pain.

The courier knew that she wasn't the person she had hoped for. Maybe the reason she was shot in the head was fate telling her that she had done no good. The voice that spoke around Manny and Boone was probably who she used to be, and that was alarming.

But then again, maybe fate didn't exist at all.

Annie rolled onto her back and sat up, lighting a cigarette before resting her chin on her scarred palms. Why fight what was inevitable? The voice, _her_ voice, was owned by a confident, sexy woman. She saw what she had done to Manny, and it made her gut twinge with pride. The situation was available for her to take advantage of.

Standing, she began to dig through her backpack - the raggedy old thing that had accompanied her down from her grave in Goodsprings. Fingers scrabbling against the rough fabric, she found a small card, fishing it out with uneasy fingers. The card was the Jack of Clubs, graced by a naked, though classy, woman, probably belonging to some post-war casino. _Why fucking fight the inevitable? _The woman on the card looked like she could handle herself and _still _look classy and elegant - a real man-eater. Annie could be that - what with the help of her new voice and all. If the shoe fits...

Heading towards the dusty mirror, she grabbed a pair of scissors off the table. Tucking the card into the broken part of the frame and holding the smoke between her lips, Annie took her bangs between her horizontal fingers and snipped.

Leaning on Jeannie-Mae's desk the next day, Annie was convincing the woman to give her some of her make up. Jeannie seemed hesitant, but soon caved. While the woman was out of the room, heading towards her small house on the edge of town, the courier noticed the floor safe. Out of everyone Annie had spoken to, Jeannie-Mae seemed the least concerned about Carla.

A woman of Jeannie's helpful nature didn't fit right with her story, and that made Annie curious as to what she was hiding. The girl flittered around the room, checking the cash register and under the desks first so if the old woman did come back she wouldn't look so suspicious. But her luck kept running, the woman not appearing as soon as she thought she would. Annie took a breath, heading for the floor safe warily.

Pulling a bobby pin out of her hair, she made quick work of the lock (a skill she never really knew she had until the thought crossed her mind). The safe was filled with a small amount of caps and other odds and ends. More importantly, the safe had a note. Scanning her tired eyes over it, Annie struggled to read the first few lines. Holding the paper closer to her face, her nose brushing the paper as her brown gaze stuck to each word like wonderglue. Then she felt a shudder of terror grab her throat and refuse to let go. Her reflexes quickly folded the paper and placed it back in there, slamming the safe shut and backing away to the complimentary beverage table.

Jeannie-Mae had sold Carla to the Legion, along with her unborn child, for caps. Annie felt sick, and the woman that she thought she was turned out to be a little less brave than she had originally guessed. Jeannie-Mae was going to die that night, but the courier didn't let that bother her. She was more concerned about the monster hidden beneath the old woman's skin.

The door opened and Annie jumped, realizing that she had to play it cool to avoid being caught.

"Thank you very much." She spoke smoothly, heading towards the older woman to take the bottles and pencils from her hands. "It means a lot to me. A girl like me doesn't have enough confidence with a face like this."

"You're a very lovely girl." The woman clucked her tongue. "I'm sure you'll find a nice man in no time."

"That's very sweet of you." She cooed. "After everything I've been through, all I want to do is settle down and start a family. Maybe this will help me along, huh?"

"Children are a blessing in this place." Jeannie returned to her chair. "It's nice to see a young woman so humble."

Annie let out a genuine laugh, letting her eyes fall on the woman once more before turning to the door. "If that's what you want to call it." She grinned slightly. "Thanks again! I'll have to come show you what I look like all dolled up!"

"That'd be lovely, dear." Jeannie's eyes were warm. Annie almost felt bad for what she was going to do, but shook it off when she thought of Boone's unmistakable broken-man's beard. Heading to her room, she heard Boone's door open. She hoped he would find comfort in the impending situation, because she knew that she would. Being able to get out of Novac would be a good thing, because the faster she got to Boulder City, the faster she would have her hands down the throat of the man that shot her first.

* * *

Jeannie-Mae was walking as fast as she could, trying to get her short legs to match the strides of the younger girl. She had been told that the giant thermometer held by the dinosaur was hanging on by a thread, possibly dangerous if it were to break and fall on someone.

Annie was walking with a slight skip in her step, flying high on the adrenalin that came from convincing Jeannie to walk to her death. She was reveling in how easy it was to get the old woman from her post for the second time that day. Either she was stupid, or just naïve.

Reaching the spot underneath the dinosaur, Annie pulled the beret from her pocket and turned it in her hands, teeth clipping together in excitement. Jeannie was too busy looking up at the thermometer to notice.

"So what's your stance on karma, Jeannie? Do you think it exists?" Annie asked to the woman like a child, causing her to turn around. The woman's eyes, first filled with confusion and then straight fear, fell on the courier who had just finished pulling the beret over the tip of her head. Before Annie could even adjust it, the older woman opened her mouth to speak but was rudely interrupted by the explosion of her skull.

The splash of blood and bits of bone hit the courier with a splat, the wet feeling familiar and almost comforting. Wiping her eyes clean, she slicked the blood off of her hard with a flick of her wrist, hearing the slap of the blood hitting concrete. Looking up at the dinosaur, and seeing the glint of Boone's scope under the moonlight, Annie blew a kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

_EDITED - 11/06/13_

* * *

Returning to her spot at the top of the stairs, Annie lit a cigarette as she watched Boone read over the Notice of Sale with cold eyes. She had returned to the sniper as soon as she could, trying to keep as much blood as possible off of the note she had collected from Jeannie-Mae's safe. Boone, who was still as stoic as ever, felt a squeeze of pain in his chest as he read the names and numbers.

Looking back up at the girl, he squared the paper into four and tucked it into his front pocket wordlessly.

"What are you going to do now?" She asked him, blowing smoke out of her thin lips. The sniper thought for a moment, letting his mind try and make sense of whatever he was feeling.

"I don't know. I won't be staying, I know that." He shrugged, holstering his rifle to his back. "Don't see much point in anything other than hunting Legionaries. Maybe I'll wander, like you."

"I'm not wandering." She let out a huff, taking a long look at his handsome face under the moonlight. Annie hadn't put much thought into the Legion; the situation didn't seem to concern her at all. But the look on his face told her more than she needed to know about the man – he didn't look like he had much to live for. It would have been such a waste of a pretty face if he had wandered off into the desert without a will to live. "Come with me." Stretching her back, she itched her neck with a coy smile on her face.

Boone's mind still found it appropriate to register how attractive he found her, which made him grit his teeth. Travelling with her would probably be the death of him… but then again, death was welcome with open arms. The girl, he realised, would not last that long in the Mojave if she didn't even know how to stop her gun from jamming.

"You don't want that."

"Would you rather wander off into the desert without some company? At least you won't be lonely." She told him, her newly manicured brows rising expectantly. "And besides, I'm sure I'll run into some Legionaries along the way… I'll even let you kill them."

She had finesse; he'd give her that. Taking one last look out of the mouth of the dinosaur, Boone bit the bullet and picked up his packet of cigarettes that he had wedged between two wooden teeth.

He knew that her gun was not working, and her face told him that she wasn't as smart as she thought she was... She was wandering into a death trap if she was leaving by herself, and knowing that on top of that night's news made it hard for him to tell his situations apart. He had already let one beautiful woman down in his life - he probably didn't need the thought of the new girl's inevitable death plaguing him as well... Besides, if he was lucky enough to die while saving her - then well, he was set for life wasn't he?

"Fine. Let's get out of here."

"Let me get my things from my room, and we'll be off. We need to make it to Boulder City before sunrise."

"What's in Boulder City?" He asked as she swung the door open, clomping down the stairs with the grace of a centaur.

"Some old friends." She replied, already past Cliff Briscoe's desk. "Thought it a good idea to cross me."

Following a decent ten steps behind her, Boone watched as the floated up the concrete stairs towards her room. He then went to his own, opening the door with a semi-heavy heart. The room he had shared with his late wife was crumbling around him, the bed sheets faded and the wallpaper curling. Maybe it was a good thing he was leaving, considering he could no longer stomach the thought of counting the stains on the roof for the hundredth time.

He packed his bag with mostly ammunition and water, cans of food neatly stacked together and cuddling with a small medical kit. _The bare essentials_, he told himself, _the desert can't afford luxury._

In his room, the ghost of Carla lay asleep in his bed, probably dreaming of a life other than Novac – anything but Novac. In a moment of weakness he sighed, letting his glasses slip down his nose so he could pinch the bridge. The guilt was still overwhelming. He had taken out Jeannie-Mae but still hadn't destroyed the rest of the conspirators, and by god, if he could help it, he would exterminate every last one of the bastards himself. He had started this whole mess and he would die trying to fix it.

There was a knock on the door, snapping him out of whatever slump he had fallen into. Expecting it to be Annie, he opened the door to a crack before realizing that it was actually Manny Vargas. Before he could close the door, Manny's fingers jarred between that and the frame.

"Wait!" Manny's voice was a whisper, which confused Boone. There was no sense of imminent threat, so he let the pressure off of the younger man's fingers. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

Boone said nothing, not keen on getting found with the blood of Jeannie-Mae on his hands. He went to close the door once more, but Manny surprised him with a burst of strength. Holding the door open just enough to let his voice slip through, the Latino man pressed on.

"Remember when we had leave on The Strip, and I was telling you about the Khans? How they make you fight someone for initiation, you remember that?"

Boone said nothing still.

"Well, that's the girl I was talking about. That's Anna. I thought they were fucking with me when they put her in the circle, but she's uh... she's good." His whispers grew quieter, the ex-sniper finding it hard to hear him. "She's not as naïve as she looks."

Blue eyes slipped the door into its lock, staring at the scratched wood with heavy eyes. Even though the sight of Manny's face angered him to no end, Boone knew that he would not lie. But it was too late for him to pull out of his plans now – because he couldn't just stay in Novac and avoid the apparent terror that was 'Anna'. He had to keep moving – and the girl was expecting him now.

"This doesn't change anything." He spoke through the door and he heard Manny shift his feet uncertainly on the concrete.

"I thought you liked your beauty sleep." A second voice from behind the door told Boone that Annie was ready. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Don't look at me like that."

Manny felt like he was a tough guy, but truth be told, Anna worried him a little. The day he met the Khans, the day he decided to join, was the day he had the pleasure of meeting her.

His face burnt with humiliation when they threw her in the ring against him. He thought they were taunting him, but it turns out they had pegged him as someone strong. She took the first swing, of course, landing him on his ass in front of a group of bellowing assholes. But she didn't continue, preferring to stare at him with nothing other than amusement in her eyes.

Manny beat the shit out of her that day, and left her with a broken jaw and two black eyes while he went and had a drink with his new friends. Anna only threw one punch the entire round, but took all the hits like they were friendly pats on the back. Manny couldn't shake the thought of her eyes staring up at him from the clouds of dust, glinting with a sick pleasure.

But now she stood pack in hand and other hand on hip, grinning lazily up at the man who looked like he'd seen a ghost. It took a lot to shake Manny, but the words that came out of that girl's mouth made the blood drain from his face. She knew a lot about him, more than necessary, and if she mentioned it to Boone there would be no chance of anything getting better between them.

Before she had mysteriously turned up in Novac, she had barely spoken to anyone. The silence that seeped from the girl on a regular basis turned many people off – considering all the girl tended to do was stare. The voice that he had never really heard before was a true pinpoint of her personality; smooth but taped with a vicious uncertainty – like she knew exactly how great she was. But he didn't know that she didn't know anything at all, which put the situation at a greater fire risk.

"Seeya Vargas." She cooed, watching at his ghostly face. "What? You told me to come say goodbye." Her head cocked to the side; biting her lip thoughtfully with the small white pegs she called teeth. The man had swung around, heading towards his door a few feet away. "Hey, hey!" She called quietly, trying only to get his attention and his alone.

He stopped, turning around slowly as if expecting his death. He wasn't armed, which was a mistake on his behalf, so if she was pointing a gun in his direction he was more than dead. Even if she couldn't shoot to save her life, the range was not on his side. Seeing that she still stood in the same place, he shrugged a question at her, causing her to raise her pointer finger to her lips. Her eyes flickered to Boone's door, and her mouth pulled into a very warm smile.

That was her sign that she wouldn't breathe a word about Manny's complications – about anything. There was a tiny prick of comfort stinging in his chest, feeling slightly better about the girl. She'd kept her mouth shut for him before, and he had faith she could do it again.


	5. Chapter 5

_EDITED: 11/06/13_

* * *

After moving Jeannie-Mae's body to a less compromising position, they set down the road towards Boulder City. This is where Annie realised that Boone was not going to be the kind of person to talk her ear off. This suited her fine; enabling her to think of all the things she could do to the man in the suit. There was a pot of oil on the stove of her soul, bubbling and hissing as time passed on - fuelling a disgusting hatred of the man that had basically ruined her life. She would find him, gut him and hang his skin around his own bathtub like a shower curtain.

Finding out that she had been a Khan was a little bit more than liberating. This made her feel strong, more confident in her ability to fight. If she couldn't shoot a gun, she could more than likely throw a decent punch. The memories Manny had unlocked had birthed a whole new level of decency in Annie - she _knew _that she wasn't as completely useless as she had grown to think. Once she found McMurphy and whoever else had helped that asshole in the suit, she was going to beat them to death in front of their families.

The road beneath her feet felt like snow; the sound of her crumbly leather boots against rugged bitumen almost as velvety as the soft twangs from her pipboy radio. It felt good to be on the road again and not cooped up in a tiny hotel room, counting the rot stains on the ceiling. Annie was beginning to remember how much she loved the smell of the desert, like burnt soil and cigarette smoke.

Her daydream burst when a shot fired past her ear, forcing her to drop to her knees in cowardice. Boone was behind her with incredible accuracy, taking out three Vipers and wounding one. It didn't take him long to reload and finish the woman off.

"Not so close to the face next time." Letting her breathing slow down, Annie staggered to her feet with an awkwardly apologetic grin. "You could shot my face off." She joked shakily, looking up at the strong man with wide eyes. Okay, so she wasn't as brave as she let out to be. Not even having time to get her gun out, she had proved very a very ineffective comrade. The man huffed at her, obviously unimpressed with her shameful display. "I'm sorry. I should have been paying more attention." Giving his shoulder a light punch, Annie grinned up at the man tiredly. "Good thing you're here, huh? I would have been dead by now... Or at least some form of injured."

"How good are you with that gun?"

"Huh?" She perked up, excited to hear his voice. "Oh, uh, not very good actually. Wasted at least a third of my ammo up at Repconn just blindly shooting. My hands get really shaky and I can't hold it still enough to get a decent shot."

His eyes narrowed at the possibilities for her shaky hands. She didn't look like she had had the life sucked out of her by a chem stint, but he could see the rings of fire in her eyes as she thought over her obvious weakness. Maybe she was more nervous than he had originally pegged her.

She snuffed at herself, tapping the gun that sat unhappily in its holster. Boone let the thought cross through his mind – maybe she was an idiot. There was no other explanation as to why she was so blatantly naïve about the whole situation. There he was – travelling with a less-than-prepared girl – and he had to pick up the only person in the entire desert who didn't know how to shoot a gun.

Watching her scuttle over to strip the dead bodies, he realised that there was a lot more to his situation than he thought. Had he just signed himself up for a babysitting job? The girl was just as quiet as he was that morning and he hadn't let himself stare at her long enough to really get a good look at her – so as far as he knew he could have been travelling with a handicapped raider. The only thing he knew he had to watch out for was that smooth voice of hers that had lead him into their current situation – and he made note not to fall for it again.

Straddling the body of a dead young man, Annie rifled through all of his pockets, checking under his shirt and behind his ears. She was siphoning Mentats out of his boots, finding caps taped to the underside of his belt and a knife holstered to his ribs.

"There's nothing like a good haul, hey?" She called back to him, "Thirty caps all up! Rich, rich fools." Pushing herself up on the dead man's chest, she hoisted her pack onto her shoulders and bounded back over to the sniper. "Mentats." The case was still in her hand, holding it out to offer it to him. "Hmm?"

"No."

"Suit yourself. We can sell these to Fiends." She pointed up at him, returning the box to her pack. "They go mental over this sort of stuff. May only be a few caps but something's better than nothing, right?"

"You're willing to risk your life to help a Fiend get off?" He asked her, watching as she scoped out a small hill.

"It's an untapped source. The Khans do it, obviously, but there's good money in an addict."

He could have felt sick, but his brain told him to nod his head instead. She wasn't stupid, just callous. Then again, he had no ounce of care for what she wanted to do - the only thing on his mind was the scene of a bullet through Caesar's brain. And considering they were tracking down a useless gang and not a foaming army, that scene was only contained to his wildest fantasies. What had he gotten himself into?

"Over this hill, darling." She cooed from three feet in front of him. "And look at that! Sunrise!" She whipped around, eyes blazing. "Excellent."

He was more concerned with the idea that she called him 'darling' rather than the fact that she was suddenly belting full force into the heart of Boulder City. The buildings that had been previously destroyed disallowed any shelter. It was a ghost town, other than the small fence that had been pulled together from scraps to guard the city's heart.

"Hey." He frowned, not catching her attention in the slightest. The only thing that Annie could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears, throbbing heavily and causing her vision to sharpen. It was here that she'd have all the answers - it was here that she would find out where Benny was.

"Hey! Civilians aren't allowed to be here." There was an NCR soldier staring at her, probably wondering why a young girl had pulled up beside him, wheezing heavily and out of breath. She held a finger up at him for a second; trying to show him that she wasn't a threat by holding up her hands in surrender.

"Hello," She wheezed, straightening up to take a look at the makeshift fence "what's going on in here?" She stretched her back, adjusting the sticky arms of her leather armour.

"We've got a situation with some Great Khans right now." Annie shot him a blank look, trying to grasp the situation. "The Brass at McCarren has ordered me to lock down the ruins until it's been resolved." She needed to get in there, and fast. If the NCR managed to kill the Khans, they would also be effectively killing her trail.

Boone finally showed his face, leering out of the darkness of a broken home with the glint of the sun in his glasses. The soldier blanked, watching as the scowling man stood behind the woman.

"He with you?" He asked, instantly snapping into a more refined stance when he saw Boone's beret.

"Yes." Annie stood tall beside Boone. Having him around could have been a good thing, what with that beret of his and everything. He was the oil in the struggling cogs of Annie's social situations. "I'm going to say this straight, my friend. I'm looking for those Khans, and if I can go in and have a chat with them I will do my best to get your boys out... Alive."

The soldier grit his teeth, his eyes shifting towards the stalemate through the gate. They were getting nowhere fast, and if it went on any longer he knew the Khans would get restless and then that would be a whole other story. He didn't question her motives, but simply nodded, causing Annie to nod back.

"Boone, stay here." She ordered flatly, the man shooting her a look. She had no right to order him around like that. "They'll kill us both if you come with me." She flicked out a pack of cigarettes, lighting a match on the side gate. Drawing in the first breath of a fresh smoke, Annie pushed through the gate.

"If I hear gunshots, I'm sending my men in."

The girl grinned. "Sure thing."

* * *

Pushing through the door of the abandoned store, Annie's breath caught in her throat at the sudden knife in her face. Not letting the men see her scared, she pulled her own. Her eyes closed, forehead crinkling up as she held her arms out in attempt to soothe the situation.

"Listen, you assholes," She warned shakily, opening her eyes to rest on the redheaded man that stood gaping at her from behind a counter. The men around her backed away as her mind whirred into gear. Her words got stuck in her throat and she stopped, suddenly a little shy at the thought of a whole room of men who probably still had all their knowledge of combat in tact.

Jessup was someone in her head that made her happy. It was hard to keep the straight face of a monster, but Annie managed to hold onto it just barely. He was a family member - not a blood brother but a brother all the same. He had a fierce sense of loyalty, which made her heart hurt when she remembered the shovel in his hands at her shallow grave.

"Anna! You're dead!" His voice wavered with a sort of morbid horror, and the guilt in his eye nearly outweighed Boone's.

"And I've crawled out of the grave to get my revenge." She waved her knife at him, quickly pointing it to the other three men that were also standing in complete shock. "Should have stabbed me in the back twice, Jessup. Maybe I would have bled out faster."

The man stayed quiet in shock, breaking his gaze away from hers to look at his own shaking hands. He even pinched himself on the wrist, grimacing when he realised that it was definitely not a dream. There was nothing he could really say to her now - knowing that she had the right of way in this situation. You _don't _hurt your family, no matter what the reason.

"Listen, we didn't know it was you. All Benny said was that you were a courier. There was no name, just a destination and the moment we all saw you we knew that we were in too deep."

"How many caps did he give you?"

"He stiffed us."

She lowered her knife.

"Where's McMurphy?"

"Dead. A radscorpion fucked him at Goodsprings."

"Are you sure it wasn't another old friend that you had a bright idea to fuck over?"

"You know we're family, Anna. Family look after each other and I'm sorry that we failed. You left us. How were we supposed to know that you'd gone and grown out your hair and turned into some straight edge citizen?"

She turned her head away, staring quietly at the two shivering NCR soldiers.

"Here's the thing, Jessup," she warily eyed the man who was watching her just as intently. "I won't kill you if you let these soldiers walk free.-" (he opened his mouth to argue) "-No! No, Jessup. You owe me a huge fucking favour, and this is what I want. I want you to walk home and you tell Papa that I'm coming to see him when I can, and on your way if you meet any NCR soldiers you are _not_ to interfere with them." She crouched to the tied-man's level, reaching around him to cut the ropes from his wrists.

He sprang up, causing the room to flinch, running out the door and too the safety of the NCR unit outside.

"And you," Annie spoke softly to the blond woman who was still shivering. "When you get out there I need you to tell your supervisor that these guys are walking free today. No blood spilled." The woman nodded, rubbing her wrists and then sprinting out the door.

Annie turned back to the ginger man, a smile bursting onto her lips. "Look at that - I saved your life for the second time in about ten minutes." Jessup watched her curiously. "How about that?"


	6. Chapter 6

_EDITED: 12/06/13_

* * *

Boone approached the NCR woman the moment she stepped away from her commander. He apologised for bothering her after an eventful day, and he explained that he needed to know whether he would be dragging a corpse back to Goodsprings or not.

Even through the exhilarating few hours of death hovering over her head, the woman managed to smile at the handsome man. "She freed us but didn't follow."

He found no solace in her words, aiming his feet towards a shady spot so he could steal a cigarette where no one could watch him. He had no faith in the situation whatsoever. Then again, there was no other place for him. He would wait another half hour before he walked in there and found her, then would put her body in a nice, simple hole and return to his journey.

Annie, however, was sitting on the counter inside the building, staring down a new recruit with a deadpan face. As much as she wanted to, she could not remember most of the faces that were staring back at her – but their eyes told her that they knew exactly who _she _was.

"So," she started, her words doused in thick smoke "this man had the balls to find you, so you could bury me and _then_ stiffed you when he realised that we were more connected than he thought. _But, _he also thinks I'm dead so he thinks you won't squeal."

Jessup wasn't as worried for his life as he was ten minutes ago. As much as he wanted to hot foot it out of there just in case she did end up snapping, he could feel a soft curse in the air that had wrapped itself around Anna like a warm blanket. She seemed calmer than she had ever been in her entire life. "If you put it that way, then yeah."

"Do you know where he is? Because I'm gonna find him." Annie was on her third cigarette, the stress of the situation coming through. These people she called her friends should have been face down in their own blood, not giving her apologetic pats on the back. But she gave them the benefit of the doubt, because she couldn't push away that familiar feeling that the dirty men gave her.

"Benny? Oh, easy, he's the leader of the Chairmen. They run the Tops Casino on the Strip." Jessup had his arms folded, more relaxed than when she first walked in. The colour had returned to his face when he realised that she was not going to strangle the life out of him - like she had done many times before for a lot less than this.

"The Strip?" The only thing that clicked in her head was the sound of the safety flicking from Benny's gun. "Seems like a piece of work, travelling from the Strip to come find little old me."

"Well, he got that chip he was after. Stole it off his boss."

"Did he tell you what it was for?" Her heart fell when he shook his head. "I'm surprised you didn't just kill him."

"We wanted to, ya know, after what happened, but we figured it would be better to just leave it in the past." His eyes trailed unhappily to the floor before snapping back up tensely. "Don't need the Chairmen coming after us."

"What happened?" Annie perked up. Jessup's face fell, almost guilty when he realised he hadn't thought about it in a while.

"Chance's dead."

Chance. Chance. Where had she heard that name before?

Soon Chance had a face; a handsome face with long blonde hair and a behemoth frame. He was very rough around the edges but his voice made her heart nearly squeeze itself to death. An ugly feeling burnt in her chest - was it love or absolute hatred? It felt like there was no difference.

"Oh."

"It gave us the creeps… The two of you dying within a day of each other… Even buried around the same area." Jessup boiled his voice quietly, watching the girl's lack of reaction. "Destiny, like Papa always said."

"Very sweet, Jessup." She said bitterly, remembering nearly every little detail of the man who made her heart ache. "But I'm not dead."

"Even though he refused to say anything we knew he missed you, Anna. We all missed you. Now that you're not dead and all, you should come back again. Some people probably won't be happy about it, but Papa likes you. He'll take you back quickly, of course you'd have to go through initiation again but I'm sure you can handle that."

"I left for a reason." She mumbled, slipping off the countertop. Even through she didn't know that reason at that point, she knew it must have been a good one. "I have to go. My companion has probably left without me by now."

"The offers always there." He stepped forward for a goodbye but stopped himself when he realised it wasn't a good idea in the slightest. "Remember that, Anna. I bet Jack and Diane would love to have you back."

"I'm sure." She winced, mixed with feelings about a man named Jack and his common-law wife named Diane. So sweet, and always so accommodating and safe… Annie had to leave before she broke down and walked back to Red Rock Canyon with them. The feeling of family was somehow overwhelmingly stronger than the need for revenge. But she knew that Benny could not get away with what he did.

"Remember what I said, Jessup. Don't fuck with the NCR _until _you get home. I've risked my ass for you even after what you did so don't mess this up or I **will **find you."

Jessup's eyes drooped, and he fished through his pockets to return with his hand clenched around a decorated Zippo. He lobbed it, Annie catching it quickly.

"When you see Benny, shove this up is ass for us."

Turning the metal case in her fingers, the girl looked back up to her old friend. "I'll do more than that." She winked before bursting through the door into the morning sun.

* * *

Annie made Boone walk to Boulder Beach Campground for lunch. It wasn't in his plan – he preferred to keep moving, but the girl seemed drained. He'd only known her for a day, but the look on her face was one he didn't think she could pull.

Throwing herself under a shaded rock, she watched Boone pick off lakelurks with a bored look in his eye. She split that day's meal generously, leaving the most protein to the older man, a Sunset Sarsaparilla each, with a bottle of purified water to share. She and Boone had a canteen each, but drinking slightly irradiated liquid from taps was probably not doing them too well.

"Boone, sweetheart, lunch time!" She called, watching the man lower his gun, throwing his gaze around to check for danger. She sighed quietly. "My pipboy will tell me when something gets close. Let's just eat so we can keep moving, okay?"

He sat down beside her, aching for the cool touch of the rock face. The makeshift rest felt like a cold blanket, cooling the burning muscles on his back. It was the simple things that kept him going.

"I wonder what it means when there's a star under the cap?" Annie asked after cracking open the lukewarm soda. "Lucky." Pocketing it, she looked over at her companion, half expecting an answer but not receiving any. "You don't talk much, do you?"

He looked at her, mid chew. Whenever she managed to catch his eye, she always gave him that same grin. Even if she looked mildly defeated and slightly angsty, Boone knew she thought he was a joke.

"It's not like it's a bad thing. I can't imagine you being a chatterbox." Boone couldn't manage to chew anymore as her mouth kept gabbling. "Someone as handsome and mysterious as you shouldn't have the lips of a school girl."

He looked back at the lake, chewing slowly to avoid looking flustered. Annie thought he simply blew her off, which made it even more fun to play with him. There was something about a man with no surface emotions that made her crazy – maybe she could play with him a little…Tease him into loving her in the most demeaning way possible…

She stopped, horrified at the thought. Swallowing quickly, she glanced at her pipboy.

"Hey buddy, there's something to our left." She shot him an awkwardly plain smile and he put his food down.

"On it." Rifle in one hand, he peeked over the rock carefully. He returned less than a second later, a burning fire in his eyes.

"What?" Annie asked, pitching the soda. "What, Boone?"

"A couple of Legion boys." He grunted.

"How many is a couple?"

"About five."

"Five?" She struggled up, lifting her eyes over the rock to spy the Legionnaires, possibly new recruits just there to fuck with the Mojave. "What in the hell are they doing up here? We're nowhere near anything to even do with them."

"Here to pick off any strays from Alpha, I guess." He crouched back down, his head down to sweep the packs on the ground, letting Annie catch a glimpse of his eyes in the sunshine.

"Shit…" She frowned, her hands beginning to shake. The nerves enveloped her whole, chilling strong shivers through her brittle spine. She heard Boone's gunfire, realising he was already up and fighting – leaving the girl gaping for action that she was surely missing out on.

Bullets cracked into the rock, sending debris everywhere as the kid with the submachine gun couldn't figure out how to aim properly. Boone picked him off first. The thing about Legion fighters was that they charged – they simply ran into battle taking shots like they were only BB pellets. It was like they didn't have a sense of self-preservation, only the ability to blindly follow orders from men in better uniforms. The thought made Boone grit his teeth – he knew all about that sort of work.

One had already reached the rock by the time Boone had to reload. Ditching that idea, he took his machete and struck it between the soldier's neck and shoulders, making the dope stumble off to the side. His Super Sledge cracked a piece of rock off as it fell, landing on Annie's hand in the process. Her breath hitched in her throat, staring painfully at the man writhing in agony by her feet. People were falling all around her and she hadn't done anything about it at all.

Annie leapt up in an act of confidence, knowing full well that she was not a child and she could take care of herself. She did not need Boone to take care of her, even though he was crouching away trying to reload. After her horrible near-death situation that very morning, she was intent on showing her new counterpart that he wasn't going to have to do all the work.

Her good hand found the sledge, hoisting it over her shoulder. Approaching the twitching man, she targeted his head and threw the weapon down. Her body screeched with appreciation – the muscle squeaking with something familiar and thrilling, her arms taking the impact like a pain conductor. His head crunched in easier than she had thought it would – expanding with a red-splatted halo around the man's neck stump. Using his shoulder as leverage for her boot, she pulled the sledge out and swung it back up and around, into the ribs of the enemy behind her. His machete caught her leather, slicing down her arm and leg as he fell at her feet. He had game, she would give him that.

Her breathing slowed as she counted. Boone killed two, she killed two – there was one more. Squinting into the distance, she saw him running for the hills. Shrieking in annoyance, she slammed the sledge down.

"I thought the Legion was supposed to be fearless, you fucking coward!"

But Boone was already beside her, taking out the man's legs.

"Don't kill him, let him fucking bleed out." Annie reached up and grabbed the hot barrel of his gun. The burn was nothing compared to the screams of her muscles. The feel of blood dripping through her fingers brought her down from her high, the wriggling of her digits dotting the ground with a pretty pattern. "I can't believe that. Caesar's fearless fucking army, my ass."

Boone inched his gun out of her hand, slinging it on his back. As the woman continued to swear and carry on, he surveyed her work. One man, well, what used to be a man, was coated with blood and bits of his own skull. His head had literally exploded, leaving only a haunting torso. The other man, however, was wheezing off to the side with a crushed chest. Boone left him there, finding pleasure in the fact that it was a horrible way to die. They deserved it though, they deserved every last bit of pain they suffered.

Bending to retrieve his machete from the crushed man's shoulder, Boone heard Annie go quiet. He turned to find her topless, mumbling angrily at her now torn leather armour. The contrast of her skin and the sun was shocking, not having seen a woman in this situation since… well... the overwhelming feeling of attraction was back, and it hurt his head. There was a very tempting female in front of him, a female with no sense of control, teasing him with her lips that muttered "Oh fuck me…" ("My armour is fucked, Boone!")

He turned around to face the lake. His face, still as blank as Mojave sky, heated a little. There was a wash of shame that came to smother him, Carla's body wrapped in his sheets after their third date coming to mind. It was that feeling all over again, but he didn't like it. It felt dirty.

"Can we wait here a little while longer? I have to repair this. There's no sense in having armour if I have an obvious weak spot." She sniffed, dropping the top to dig through her pack. "It won't take long, I promise."

He found a lakelurk in the distance to pick off. "Mhm."


	7. Chapter 7

**_EDITED: _**_17/06/13_

* * *

"Are you two alright?"

Annie's gun snapped out of her holster shakily for the face of the woman whose eyes were hidden by the wide brim hat. The ranger was quicker, the younger girl staring down the barrel of a rifle. Boone touched Annie's shoulder, letting her know that she was in no danger. She lowered her pistol, eyes breaking from a scowl. It paid to be somewhat attentive in the wasteland, and Annie was hoping she could break the fouls she had already spent.

"We're fine." Boone was once again behind Annie, peering down at the Ranger through his tinted glasses. "Legion soldiers. Five of them – four dead, one crawling west." When he saw the flicker of questions in the ranger's eyes, Boone clarified. "He'll bleed out before he gets anywhere."

"Well then," She nodded, somewhat impressed. "You did a mighty fine job with that problem." The woman pushed the brim up with her palm, surveying the bodies littered around them. Even though Annie had put her gun away, the ranger was not naïve. Her rifle stayed aimed at the two, even though the woman registered Boone's beret. They seemed safe enough, but a girl who pulled a gun quicker than one could finish a sentence demanded a bit of precaution. "Ranger Lineholm."

"Annie and Boone." The courier turned and cocked her thumb at the stoic man. "Just got a bit off track. See, we're heading for the Strip."

"You are very off track." The Ranger nodded, eying the cut on the girl's arm. The rifle was slung onto her back, her hand finding her hip in an act of somewhat authority. "It may not be a major hospital, but we have tents and shade where you can patch yourself up. I suppose we owe you for ruining the Legion surprise."

Annie's eyes widened, turning up to look at Boone. He shrugged, making her giddy. The idea of a tent, also with a possible mattress, seemed really delicious, muscles rejoicing at the thought of a nice night's sleep. She cursed the fact she had spent so many days resting… all the running water and civilisation had softened her up.

* * *

Now that he had discovered close body proximity with the girl, Boone realised that Annie wasn't all that pretty. She had that thing with her teeth – a gap. It put off her whole face; made her look mangy and rough when partnered with her wild eyes and blood spatter. Yes, yes… she was the worst looking woman he had ever seen.

Well, he could _try_ to tell himself that.

As Annie sewed her armour, Boone sewed her arm shut. Her stitches weren't as delicate as his, but it didn't faze her in the slightest. Annie had the feeling she'd never learnt how to sew. In fact, the concentration spent on pressing the needle through the rough leather blocked out the prick and sting of the sniper's quick fingers.

She was still mumbling curses, an unrelenting anger only hissing through the gaps of her teeth. The slit on her arm was nothing compared to the other scars on her torso. Hunched over like an old woman, Annie subconsciously gave him a view of the gashes and ugly lumps of skin that stained her tanned back. They inched out from under the ratty bra that barely held her in, shining a pink-silver in the patches of sun that beat down on them from the holes in the roof. His eyes snapped back to her arm.

Maybe he was just lonely - that would explain a lot.

"Hey buddy?" Annie asked quietly, knotting the string with shaky fingers. The fingers on her left hand had swelled a little, aching from being snapped back into their sockets by the sniper. "If they were watching us, why didn't they help us when we were fighting?"

"They weren't watching." Boone muttered back, eyes shifting to the doorway of the empty tent. "Not until the guns started anyway."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Why waste bullets on people you know nothing about?"

"But you've got that bright red hat…"

"Doesn't matter."

"Is that an NCR rule?" Annie questioned, turning her eyes to watch Boone's heavy hand dance with a needle.

"Common wasteland knowledge."

"Hm." The heat of the Mojave had caused her bangs to split and curl with sweat. He could finally see her whole face, dull and cracked from the hot winds of the desert. Her eyebrows were too big for her forehead; it gave her an almost… foreign look - like the charred women on the cover of old pre-war spy books. "Yeah, makes sense."

Finishing up the stitch, he snapped the thread with his bare hands, noting the flinch from the girl to his right. Giving him a happy, though pained, pat on the arm, Annie turned to face him – mouth wide with a grin.

"Thank you, doctor. It's a good thing I made you stick around." Pulling the arms of leather over her wrists, she shrugged it on. "Now, next stop is the Strip. Any idea how we get there?"

"North-west, through Freeside." His eyes rolled over the scabby hole in her head. The sight of it winded him; not a gasp but a weird, sickening ache in the lungs. Even though it appeared to be healing well, the wound was a dark red; a weird contrast against her lightly toasted skin.

She stood, zipping the front of her armour and stretching out.

"We'll walk down to the 188 trading post and sleep there. It'll provide a bit more cover, and is pretty guarded by NCR and citizens. Besides, it's that or staying here and sleeping in those rusty trailers." Picking up her pack, Annie tightened her ponytail, glancing out at a patrolling ranger that gave her the chills. "Not that it's a big deal, but… I don't know. Let's go."

He simply nodded.

* * *

The walk back down to the Trading Post got them there by sundown. Contradicting herself before, Annie was curled up on the floor of a grimy old trailer. Boone was beside her, on the mattress that she refused to take because she 'preferred the floor anyway'. The added comfort of a rotting mattress let him sleep easier than he originally wanted. He needed to be awake so he could keep an eye out for danger, but when he sat down on the make-shift bed he slowly sank on to his back… then his eyes closed… then there was Carla.

Boone woke up the next day and Annie was gone. He couldn't believe he had slept the night through, without so much as a peep. Pushing the ratty blanket off him in a fit of overdue security, he took his gun and peeked through the window. The post was close to bustling, the chatter of the merchants blending in with the mumbles of the strange boy in the head case.

Annie was still nowhere to be seen, causing him to inwardly sigh. There was an odd feeling in his stomach, like he knew something interesting had happened. There was a good chance that 'Alexander' (a trader from the GRA who Annie had taken a shine to the previous night) had run off with the courier. He seemed shady enough – actually a borderline asshole. His companion liked him, which said nothing and everything at the same time.

"Looking for your girl?" A dirty-faced wasteland settler caught his attention. Boone stopped, turning to face the sudden voice. "She's dealing with some merchants outside."

Annie returned back not even a second later, cradling food in her skinny arms. She brightened when her eyes set on his, skipping into a soft jog to reach him sooner.

"You're awake! I figured I'd let you sleep in… you looked so content wrapped up in that blanket, like a little baby." She winked at him, making him angry at the fact he even bothered to worry about her in the first place. "I have breakfast! I figured it would be nicer than stale mantis and age-old potato chips." Handing him all the food at once, she bent to dig around in their packs, returning with a couple of caps and a sarsaparilla bottle. "Thanks for watching him, friend."

The man winked at her, taking her wares and wandering off down the tunnel.

"I didn't need to be watched." Boone told her, allowing her to pick the squirrel on a stick from between his fingers. Her eyebrow quirked, a grin forming on her lips before she took a chunk of meat in her teeth.

"Of course not." Her words were jumbled from her chewing. "But if I had left you without that man you probably would have been mad."

"You didn't even know his name?"

"You were dead to the world! I accidentally kicked an old tin can on my way out and it made the loudest noise! And you just lay there, sleeping so quietly." She crawled back into the trailer, sitting cross-legged on the mattress. "It would have been beautiful if you didn't have that scowl on your face. Now, come on, eat! The sooner you eat, the sooner we can get to Freeside."

Boone dwelled on the fact that he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in years. Even with Carla beside him he still tossed and turned. Mr Sandman must have finally caught up with him after years of being in hiding – a visit that wasn't exactly welcomed at first but grew on the man as the minutes passed by. He felt strangely better, less irritated and more willing to listen to the girl blather on about something he couldn't really follow.

"-and I managed to get some better ammunition for you – for free! Of course he's really handsy but you know - you do what you have to do sometimes. But he's funny, and that's like, an upside to the whole thing. That asshole made me laugh when he-…" Annie's eyes creased up with some sort of disgust but managed to stay chipper enough to keep a smile smashed in there. "yeah."

"What?" Boone looked up from his canteen. Annie laughed at him when she realised he hadn't been following.

"Alexander… the gun runner." She grinned that same grin, Boone fully aware that Annie had the poor man under her thumb already. "And, _and _the best part of the night – which totally makes up for all the rocks in my back, is that I managed to get a really big book off Ezekiel. It's about Mongols, whatever the fuck they are." She nodded to herself, shrugging gently before setting her eyes into his. "Can you read?"

The man scanned her face for any residue of her teasing, but found her curiously staring back at him with that same small grin she'd been testing out that morning. It seemed to be more charming than anything, but that thought made his face turn sour.

"Yes." He answered, stewing in his own self-disgust.

"Is it hard to do?" Her voice rang with an authentic interest. When he didn't answer, she leant over and nudged his shoulder. Turning his neck slowly, he caught her eye and frowned.

"Sometimes."

"I'm sure I can learn." She said peacefully. Trailing down the bridge of her nose, his eyes set on the chipped tooth in her mouth as Annie beamed into her squirrel. She hoped she was unhappy in her old life because it wasn't often anyone got to start with a clean slate.

Working through whatever tangle he'd managed to create in his brain, Boone focused in on the situation and leant back – sipping his canteen as he concentrated on a rusted hole in the side of the trailer. The girl in front of him glowed with positivity; pink cheeked and recreated by a certain aura that seemed far too familiar.

His eyes snapped back to her, searching the soft skin of her neck in a subconscious checklist of his soon-to-be conclusion. Annie's eyes were simmering softly with a smouldering fire – soothed by soft stokes… Soothed? His eyes widened a fraction.

"Alexander." He grunted and the girl looked up at him, breaking into that smart grin that told him he had already said too much. Annie leant back onto her palms and sent him a coy look that ended up breaking into a teasing stare.

"There's enough of me to go around, soldier." She told him gently, letting her brows rise as he deadpanned instantly. Blowing him a kiss to prove her point, she pulled herself forward and busied herself in her squirrel – the pleased grin never leaving her face.


	8. Chapter 8

**_EDITED: _**_17/06/13_

* * *

Freeside wasn't as glamorous as Annie thought it would be. She was expecting flashing lights and crowds of people, but instead it was a shit hole, filled with squatters and chemheads. The girl scolded herself for expecting so much from a town she knew nothing about. The noise of The Strip was carrying over the gates, the laughing and the vomiting something that she wanted to be a part of.

That, and she knew she had to get to the Tops casino. That would be the first place to go. She'd march right up to Benny and gut him in front of his guests, and then walk back out – back to the wasteland and back to whatever she was doing before. Which was, in fact, nothing at all. Maybe that was to be her next quest… finding out who she was exactly.

They had pulled up a spare room in the 'nicer' side of Freeside; a couple of caps a night and even though you could hear the moans of prostitutes through the walls, the double bed with clean sheets won over the lot. The Atomic Wrangler wasn't the nicest place to stay, but it sure beat squatting in an abandoned building in the slum district.

Sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her, Annie was leaning against the wall trying to read the book she had gotten off of Ezekiel. Boone was polishing his gun beside her, his back turned so they didn't have to look at each other. Even with their caps combined they could not afford a single entry to The Strip. That made them tense.

"I can't get past the first chapter." The girl mumbled unhappily, folding the page in half and snapping the book shut. "You think you could read it and tell me what happens?" She asked, earning the turn of his head. Gaining access to his eye contact, Annie scooted closer to him.

"If you can't read it, I won't be able to." He sighed at her, placing his gun against the bedside table. The girl cocked her head gently before huffing.

"You said you could read."

"I can." He answered her flatly. "Old books are worded differently."

Pulling an impressed face at his apparent knowledge, the girl shrugged. "Okay." Tugging herself by the heels of her feet to the side of the bed, Annie pushed herself up to full height and tugged up her stockings. "Did your parents teach you how to read?"

He stayed silent, Annie catching the hint and clearing her throat. The man was a closed book and it was starting to get a little tiresome. Then again, there was something about the way the man sat in thought that dragged Annie in like a curious little girl harbouring around the darkness. "Is there anywhere to eat around here or are we having a little picnic on our bed?"

Boone took the opportunity to take over the bed, his back thanking him with a rush of ecstasy. Like he had mentioned to the weepy girl when they opened the door to their room, '_the bed has four legs and a couple of pillows – more than good enough_.

He could see the creamy skin of her upper thighs creeping from below the short dress, the garters holding up a pair of holey stockings. Watching from over his glasses, he found it easier just to follow her with his eyes - she was tossing her now-loose hair between her hands, rolling it around her fingers and knotting it gently only to pull it straight a moment later. Her hair was thick and black, unlike Carla's thin, blonde hair. A woman with Carla's looks was hard to find in the wasteland – an pale, soft-skinned beauty that was always so polite and accommodating. Girls who looked like Annie (with their dark eyes and thick brows – defined arms that hid under tanned skin and toothy grin that told you of trouble), were a dime a dozen.

Not that he had met his decent share of girls. They never interested him until Carla came along. He found the whole prospect of wooing women a lot of ground work for little gain some days – the girls he grew up around more interested in the soldiers than anything… Besides, he wasn't one for small talk. All they wanted him to do was talk to them, tell them about his day and how he was _feeling. _That wasn't him – in fact, he'd rather toss himself off of Hoover Dam than tell anyone how anything made him feel. That was his cross to bear.

But still, even though Boone didn't let himself think of Annie that way, his brain still fought off his protests with quick doses of hysteria – his curiosity towards the taste of her tongue badly beaten down by the need to leave her on the roadside. The only thing from stopping him putting his subconscious plan into action was the fact that he had no right to enjoy himself.

"We'll stay here."

Huffing a laugh at his predictable answer, she crawled back on the bed. The weight shift of her hands near his thighs made his skin crawl with something weird. Boone only ever got goose bumps when he woke up from one of his dreams; and nine times out of ten they weren't good ones. He wished he could control himself better… he knew that he couldn't stop body from being 'natural', but boy, could he try.

Flopping down beside him, she turned her neck to meet his gaze. The angle on which she lay curled her bangs to the side, the dark scab on her forehead appearing again. She watched his eyes flicker over it, his mouth twitching in a form of interest.

Annie grinned. "I got shot in the head." His eyes widened only a fraction, but she still caught it. She smiled at him, straightening out so she could stare at the ceiling. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. Not that it's your business, but if I'm going to drag you into this I figure I should tell you."

"Shot in the head…"

"I know, I know! Congratulations to me for being alive… Some asshole in a chequered suit wanted the package I was carrying, so he roped me up and dug me a grave." She chewed her nails quietly. He watched her chest rise and fall in a moment of empathy. "Woke up in Goodsprings and have been looking for him ever since."

Annie was thankful for Boone's silence. He could have said anything, even if he had forced it, and it would have been the wrong thing to say. She didn't need his sympathy, much preferring his resigned coldness to anything else he had to offer.

"And now I can't remember anything…" She continued on, the only noise was of the broken nails snapping between her teeth. "Which is great, because life is now like a huge puzzle. I feel like I've been everywhere but in reality I'll never really know that. It's like a second chance."

Sensing that she had said too much, Annie sat up straight, looking hastily down at the man she had been so contented laying next to not even a second before.

He looked very lovely, all spread out for her. She knew he was not like that on purpose, but she still found her eyes running over the bare skin that had arrived from the un-tucking of his shirt. He was a very handsome man, even though he hid himself behind a pair of sunglasses and an old beret… Their eyes met again and she sighed.

"Anyway, Boone, I'm going to kill this man. And after that, I'll probably go find out who I am." Scratching the back of her head, she broke their eye contact. "I don't care if you want to leave after that. I know running around and tending to my needs isn't on the top of your 'list of things to do'."

Leaning up on his elbows and showing more than a little humanity, he let his eyebrows rise apprehensively.

"I don't see harm in taking a detour." His voice was still as rough as sandpaper, but she knew he was telling the truth. "And having your death on my conscience won't do me any good."

She turned back to face him, that same cheeky grin sliding back on to her face. Boone now felt her gap was more amiable than anything, and her eyes weren't always burning with a vicious fire… they were just alive.


	9. Chapter 9

**_EDITED:_**_17/06/13_**  
**

* * *

Much to Boone's distaste, Annie found a lot of men that she grew 'comfortable' with in a matter of days. She had a way of talking to boys, though coincidentally stumbled around women like a schoolgirl - but soon she had half the population ready for a chat and exchange of pleasantries. Boone found it alarming how easily people were taken in by Annie - and she treated all the others the way she did him. He felt a little better knowing she got a rise from most other people, feeling not as pathetic as he had been lately.

The only man Annie couldn't conquer was Arcade Gannon, a doctor from the Followers of the Apocalypse, who were operating their make shift hospital from an Old Mormon fort. That didn't bother her though, knowing that the man had 'other ways' of getting his kicks. She loved to listen to him talk though, mildly fascinated by his blond hair and his ability to always have the last word.

Two days of running around the town and doing the dirty jobs for the lazy 'upper class', they finally had a total of 1538 caps. Annie had arranged a couple of fake passports from Mick and Ralph's, an odds and ends shop down the end of a deserted street. Freeside had grown on Boone, although that may have just been the lack of want to enter the Strip.

The passports, however, would not be done for another three days.

Boone was laying on the bed, soaking up as much relaxation as he possibly could without feeling guilty. Throughout their 'adventures' in Freeside, the girl had scored them a larger room down the hall. It was somewhat nicer, and the bed was bigger, so there was more space he could keep between them. He had let Annie wander Freeside by herself, under oath that she would carry a knife on her. He trusted her a little more with a knife – knowing that there was a better chance of actually hitting her target with it.

He had polished his gun three times, trying to keep his hands off the drink and busy with something else. When there was nothing to do, there was still always the option of alcohol. He hadn't drank since Carla had died… didn't really want to. Alcohol always made him red-cheeked and giggly, which would be in bad taste around Annie. Boone didn't want to do anything stupid with the girl, especially since he had a hard enough time around her sober.

He sighed tiredly and shook his head – shutting his eyes to take a quick breath. The devil must have heard him, and she burst through the door with an alarming gust of wind and a rush of sweet dirt. It slammed on its hinges, earning a yell from one of the Garrett Twins from the floor below, making Annie swing back around and apologise brightly from the balcony. Returning to the frame, the girl leant against the doorframe with hurried breaths, snapping her garter clips open.

Boone was up on his elbows, sitting up too quickly to hit his head on the bed frame. She snorted at him, his hand reaching up to rub the sore spot embarrassedly. It wasn't often he was caught off guard like that, but then again Annie always managed to surprise him. Catching each other's gazes, they stared for a moment before her lips swelled with a grin.

But she kicked off her stockings, slamming the door behind her, heading straight for the bed. The wild look that she sometimes got was back, making her eyes glint like a psychopath's. Her sudden presence actually worried him, which was a new feeling. Boone really wasn't afraid of anything anymore - not even the thought of his impending doom.

She crawled onto the mattress; eyes alight with something curious and weird. There was something off with the way she handled high-stress situations - they seemed to fuel her mind rather than turn her off completely.

Curling between his legs and sitting up straight in front of him, she began to take off her dress.

"Anna…" He looked like a robot malfunctioning; only managing to blink blankly at her.

"I nearly died today!" She told him, stopping halfway through pulling off a sleeve. "I'm running solely on a high, Boone. Better than chems, Boone; the feeling of taking out three thugs with only a switch blade."

He noticed the scratches on her bare shoulders. However, her dress was just as clean as it had been when she left. Adding the sums in his head, he grabbed the wrist of the hand she was chewing. The contact shocked her, bringing her down a few rungs.

"Did they-"

"No. No!"

"Then why-"

"Because I didn't want to get my dress dirty, Boone. It's the only nice one I have." She huffed at him. "You're missing the point. Even though they were basically useless I took them out with such bravado that I feel like a different person – a better person."

The helpful girl that he had seen not even an hour ago was back in her glazing state. Not even fazed that the force of her stabs had cut her hand open, Annie had stopped grinning and was staring at Boone with wide eyes. Slipping back to the floor, her footsteps padded softly as she walked to the middle of the room, tugging the other sleeve over her shoulder. The dress slipped down her stomach, over her hips and down to her ankles. The elastic from her garter belt hung loosely on her thighs, twisting with the motion she twirled.

"Did I get stabbed?" She asked, piling her hair on top of her head. "Because I can't feel anything now. I could be missing an arm and I wouldn't even notice… Am I missing an arm?"

Boone didn't respond, too overwhelmed with the sudden urge to stand up and take her, pick her up and place her back down on the bed. Boone realised that he was in far too deep already – and it hadn't even been a week. The girl was a beacon of sexuality in his very dry life. He couldn't stop himself from being a _human,_but the thought of another woman beneath him made his stomach churn. It was far too soon, especially because the thought of even _trying_to replace Carla just made him beg for death.

"You're okay. Only a few scratches."

Annie couldn't pick up any discomfort in his voice. Either he was getting better at hiding himself, or she was so full of good feelings that she didn't care.

"I ran back here as soon as I could. It was only down the street. A guy waved at me from an alley to go look at a dead body and then he jumped me."

Boone had already reclaimed his sanity by sitting up straight, placing his feet on the ground so he could find her one of his shirts to try to cover her up as soon as possible. Everything of hers was too short for his taste, and he couldn't ask her to just put her armour back on… If she wasn't going to wear her dress, she was going to wear his clothes in replacement.

She deflected the shirt as soon as he held it out to her, smearing blood on the only clean cloth in his pack. He sighed.

"I'm a woman, Boone, I'll take off my clothes whenever I want." Noticing the blood on her hand, she too began to rummage around in the bags, looking for a doctor's bag. Pouring a cap of sterilizing alcohol into the cut, she wrapped a small amount of bandage around her palm, holding it in place with a rusty pin. She quirked her brows at him jokingly, throwing herself on the bed. "So this one guy grabs me and holds a knife to my stomach, so I turn on the charm you know… you know my charm, right…? He's all for it – they drop their weapons and come for me like fucking animals but they didn't know I still had my knife—and well – did it end badly for them! You should have seen it, I did a great job."

Boone stood in his same place, shirt in one hand, the other free and clenching/unclenching as his eyes drank in the skin on her patterned back. She kicked her legs, burying her face in the pillows lovingly. In the end he had to turn away, heading for the door.

"It's so easy to swing a man. All you have to do is take off your clothes and suddenly everything's a lot-" The door slammed shut, Annie now the sole tenant of their Atomic Wrangler room. "Boone?" She rolled over and sat up, winded by his sudden departure.

She stagged up, pulling on the bloody shirt and peeped out the door. She found him sitting at the bar, feet tucked into the rungs of the stool as Francine Garrett smooth talked him into some sweet drink. Annie felt she shouldn't bother him, so she left him with Old Ben, who also was drinking away his shame.


	10. Chapter 10

**_EDITED:_**_17/06/13._

* * *

After everything Boone and Annie had done for the Freeside community, the Garret Twins were more than happy to shout all their drinks. This allowed Boone to go as hard as he liked, knowing fully that Francine had rented him their first room for only five caps. He didn't have to go back upstairs and deal with the succubus that had recently molested him due to her being a manic sensualist, and boy, was he excited (as excited as Boone could be) to have a bed to himself.

Annie didn't sleep as much as him, and that said something considering he rarely slept at all. They just lay there and stared at the ceiling, matching each other's breaths subconsciously so the other thought they were gone. Annie got up a lot during the night though, rustling around in their packs for cigarettes and only returned to smoke them tiredly beside him.

"Troubles with your girl?" Old Ben was shooting scotch next to him. Annie had smooth-talked both of the men (the men being Santiago _and_Old Ben) into working at the Wrangler. Ben didn't seem too pleased with himself, but that was from a reason Boone didn't bother to wonder about.

"Not my girl." He replied, watching Francine push him another glass. The old man next to him laughed, nudging him with his elbow.

"That's not what she says." Ben pressed forward.

"She's wrong." Boone said curtly, staring into the dregs of his earlier drink. Wait, what? "… What's she been saying?"

"Well, that sure did catch your attention, didn't it?" Old Ben leant on his elbows, resting against the bar. "She hasn't said anything personal, relax." Francine was leaning on her side of the bar, listening intently – even though she wasn't exactly welcome in the conversation. "But she talks a lot – and being an old guy like me, you pick up on a ladies little signs."

Boone didn't need to say anything, because Old Ben liked to talk. In comparison to the tired looking man in the beret, the jack-of-all-trades was a wise sage - the answer to all problems because he had already been there and done that. The alcohol Boone had already ingested took the edge of a bit. He was thankful he didn't have to talk, preferring to listen warily to the dark-skinned man beside him.

"Now women... Women are complicated things. They were like this before the war, and they'll probably be like this for the rest of eternity."

Francine Garret suddenly lost interest, a sneer on her face at the shaded sexism.

"Now your girl has already told me all about herself, and from what I can gather is that she's going through a very confusing time. She looks like a little fighter but she's just a pussycat. Loves to talk though, doesn't she?" The man swirled his glass in his hand, and Boone grunted in agreement. "Good for men like you, because you don't talk much yourself, do you? Bad for men like me, because conversations tend to get very one-sided very easily." He chuckled at his own words.

Annie did talk a lot... In fact, that's all she did. If she wasn't talking, she was smoking, and if she wasn't smoking she was sleeping. It had only been a week and he knew more about her than he did most people in his life. He didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing... Both, he supposed.

"I don't know if you've picked this up yet, but Annie needs a little control in her life. Now don't take this the wrong way, son, but I've seen how flustered she makes you. Your face doesn't say much, but in this dingy place I can see right through those glasses you insist on wearing." Boone placed his cup on the bar, looking at the man incredulously. "If you want this to stop you're going to have to take control. Don't let her walk all over you – she needs a little guidance… Seen it before, dealt with it myself. All you need to do is assert your dominance."

If he weren't so rigid, Boone would have cackled with laughter. Assert his dominance? What did Ben want him to do? Pull her hair and call her names?

"I don't need this."

"Of course you need this, son, it's a life experience! If she's willing and able then why shouldn't you give it a go? By the look in your eye, and the beret on your head, I gather you've seen some things. It's not like a war hero to become flustered by a little girl. Don't embarrass yourself in front of the Mojave, boy, that's the last thing you want."

That struck a chord. He was already a fool to the Mojave; a war criminal and a murderer. How could a little girl with a pleasure complex control him, a monster? She wasn't even a genius, but she had him wrapped around her finger. The thought made his brain boil - how could he let a little girl step all over him? It was him constantly busting his ass trying to save hers and he knew he had to do something about it. It didn't help that the alcohol had turned his thoughts to slow moving ridiculous theories.

Boone's eyes scanned the scratched bar with little bravado. Anna was an ex-Khan that didn't know anything about Bitter springs or what he had done. He could have murdered her whole family and she wouldn't know any different. If anything, he held her life in his hands and it was his to keep. Yet she played with him like _he_was the toy. The warmth from the scotch soaked through his stomach and into his blood, keeping him warm and pink-cheeked under the dim lights. There was a strange epiphany; he shouldn't be scared of some babbling brat with an inability to shut up. If what Old Ben was saying was true, all Annie needed was firm guidance into not being such a hassle.

"Hey," Boone caught Francine's attention. "Don't need that room anymore."

The woman shot him a look from under her eyebrows and Ben grinned – pleased with his work. At least he still got some pleasure from sitting around a bar all day. Not that he was toying with the man – no! He was adding a little life to the stony sniper who looked like he needed a good time.

Bidding a very quiet goodnight to Old Ben, Boone travelled up the stairs on light feet. Fuelled on alcohol-drenched confidence, he pushed through their bedroom door. Annie was still on the bed, sitting in her underwear with one leg crossed over the other.

She perked up at his appearance, her brown eyes skimming over his face with amusement.

"Hello, soldier. How were your drinks?"

Boone said nothing, taking off his sunglasses and placing them on the desk near the door. This made her sit up, closing her book awkwardly enough for it to puff out a noise.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" She laughed, crawling onto her hands and knees so she could sit back on her calves. The dim lighting of the room gave her that foreign look again, like a curly-haired vixen waiting for him on the bed. No, no, this was about him- he would be in control.

He unbuckled his belt, testing the waters to see how hard her face twisted. The breath was sucked out of her, eyes directly on the skin that appeared from his un-tucked shirt. "Boone..." She leant back. "You're drunk."

"I'm not." His voice was as clear as day, and she let out a groan at the thought. Annie was fighting the great fight in her brain, one side telling her that this man was drunk and still not over his dead wife, and the other was telling her to take advantage of his damaged soul with as much haste as possible.

Her eyes trailed up the hair that crept from his pants, chewing her tongue with clipping teeth. She supposed it all made sense - the way he acted when she burst in and took off clothes... She felt the situation was harmless... But Boone... He probably thought it was a great big 'fuck you' to his inflexible sexual prowess. Now he was back to get revenge. And strangely, she was okay with that.

Standing up shakily, she floated to him and dropped to her knees. He looked down at her, actually surprised that she would listen to him. He didn't even have say anything, she just commanded herself into a position where he was the boss. He was in far too deep to stop now, the bad feeling sitting in his stomach like a bad lunch, because Annie wasn't stopping. She had her hands running up his inner thigh, face laced with concentration and savour.

She looked up at him with those big eyes; finally able to see the freckles that spattered across her nose close up. He shrugged at her, and she shrugged back (_Yeah, sure. Why not?_), running her hands over the button to his pants. She was chewing her bottom lip, slightly stunned by the nature of the situation, waiting for Boone to snap and push her away. But he didn't.

"And you're sure you're okay with this, soldier?" Her fingers were the stillest he had seen them, gently wrapping around his zip as her other hand popped the buttons easily. With a mind of its own, his hand placed itself on the top of her head, slipping down to nudge her closer.

Her lips slid into a pleased grin and she pressed her face into him – earning a soft jerk and a twitch from the man. "You're gonna enjoy this." She told him, tugging the zip down. "I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

**Hullo ladies, this is my second update in a night. If this is the first chapter you are reading today, go back and check the previous one to make sure you haven't missed any. I'm saying this because one of my last chapters has less views and visitors than the chapter after it, which confuses me beyond reason.**

**I'm excited to get Annie back out into the wasteland! Read on!**

* * *

The human mind was a wonderful thing.

All the guilt and pent-up anger that Boone had felt had been shoved into the crawl space of his brain. Now it was just a sort of numb feeling - only hurting occasionally in weak moments, like right before sleep or when he accidentally caught Annie in the scope of his rifle. Other than that, he was feeling better than he had ever felt - before Carla, and even before Bitter Springs. Of course, the pressure of a flooded crawl space would catch him sooner or later, but Boone figured he'd be dead by that time anyway.

The morning after the showdown, he woke up alone. Annie's side of the bed hadn't been slept in, which didn't bother the man at all. If anyone had seen him lay there, they would have thought he was the same old man – but inside he was the calmest soul in this side of the Mojave. It had been a while since he had… well…

"Morning." Annie was through the door, bringing food and water for them. With the extra caps they had accumulated during their stay in Freeside, they were living like semi-kings. It wasn't wise to spend their money so freely, but in reality Boone knew that there was no certain tomorrow. "The Kings gave me all this maize. Really sweet of them." She blushed, flustered by the attractive men in leather.

She handed him a stalk, crawling onto the bed and staring at him.

"I know it's not much, but it's fresh. They grow it in the share-crop farm beside Freeside." Grinning at him, coyly this time, Annie hoed into her corn. A lot of preparation had gone into that morning's breakfast; cold water, cooked maize, and it was even wrapped up in a clean cloth. The thought of the woman in front of him no longer sent his brain wild.

It was like a clean slate – a new playing field. He was no longer going to be humiliated by the freckle-faced girl. Instead, she would walk on glass around him instead of the rather.

"Do you, uh, want to talk about what happened last night?" Annie mumbled, mouth full of food. Boone just looked at her, uninterested, trying not to show the little discomfort he was feeling. The last thing he needed was for her to get 'emotional' about it.

He then began to panic, the gears in his brain running overtime to comprehend the sudden rush of thoughts that burst into his mind. What if she took it as some sort of 'relationship invitation'? He didn't want that… he didn't _need _that. Maybe Old Ben was just an asshole, trying to get him to do something stupid for his own personal entertainment…

"What about it?" His voice was as steady as it always was. Perhaps he was a great actor, because every time he looked into a dirty mirror the man he saw was not who he thought he was. All his brain did was work overtime, and yet his face was paralysed with no worries.

"Is it something that's going to be happening often from now on?" She watched his face tick with irritation. "Listen, buddy…" Annie reached out and punched his leg in attempt to defuse the awkward silence "One of the first things I said to you is that I don't want an 'ultimate friendship' with you. I don't expect you to gossip with me and talk about the 'meaning of life' or whatever – but if you have, ya know… needs… I'm more than happy to accommodate that."

_What? _Boone was taken aback. He caught the look on Annie's face, and it was probably the most flooring of it all. She looked shy, which would have amused if it were in a different context.

"Because, you know, you're a man, and you don't know what these prostitutes are doing anymore, and really, what are friends for?"

He was back to blinking like a broken robot, his already heavy head taking in her information like a sick, over-used sponge.

"It's not like we had sex, Boone, we didn't even kiss. Think of it as a sort of 'thank you' for saving my ass on a daily basis." Her face went bright red. "And I enjoy it. We're both winning… I get to feel like I actually do something in this partnership and you, well, you get to indulge yourself."

Annie did not know what she was saying the moment the words slipped out of her mouth. It was like all she did was speak directly what was on her mind, and more often than not it got her into some _different _situations. Boone was always risking his life to save hers and she literally had nothing to offer but her lack of tact in a conversation.

He was back where he had started – frazzled by her blatant disregard for social norms. Did women always offer themselves to men they'd only known a week or two? Sure, they'd spent every day and all night together, but for all she knew he could have been a murderer.

But then again, he was. This fairly attractive young woman was presenting herself to _him - _the man who could have actually killed her entire family and she didn't know a thing about it.

"All I want is to kill the man who shot me, and then find out who I am. After that you are more than welcome to go die in a hole, if that's what you want." She raised her palms, flattened against an invisible wall.

He had to applaud her subtlety.

"But for now, in return for your protection, I will keep you satisfied." The silence was unbearable for the both of them. "You are more than welcome to turn down the offer, I'm not going to be offended. The way I see it is that the world is fucked anyway. I've probably done some shit in my life, and it got me shot. But I'm still alive, and if living whatever is left of my life without pleasure, or happiness, or whatever other great feelings there are... how pointless is it for me to have a second chance?"

Being cramped up in a hotel room for a couple of days had to have sent him insane because Anna was actually making sense. For a girl who talked a lot of bullshit, she actually had an obtuse point for once. Why did he need to deny himself the pleasures of life? Just because he had killed a mass grave of innocent people and ruined the life of his dead wife didn't mean he didn't deserve to be happy!

It was the first time Annie had ever seen Boone laugh. A short scoff burst from his mouth and he shook his head. The old man had actually spoken some wisdom. Annie wasn't looking at him with that stupid, aggravating grin like she always did – she actually seemed a little taken worried by the look on her stony face.

"Are you going to say something, or are we going to pretend this never happened?"

She watched him chew the inside of his lip, remembering fondly back to the times she would have said something to make him feel uncomfortable in this situation. But now that he had turned around and had given her a taste of her own medicine – a spoonful of burning desire that was so obviously unrequited it sort of stung. He had laughed at her attempt to reach out and be friendly (her type of 'friendly' obviously wasn't normal) and it actually made her feel something…

What was it? Shame?

Boone was not someone to be fucked with. She realised this now. There was no point in playing a sick game with a man who had probably seen worse than she could even dream. He was always going to win, one way or another, be it playing on her promiscuity or simply shooting her in the head. He had her in a trap, and whatever 'feelings' had been birthed from the previous night told her that if she tried to escape it would just make the gaping wound much, much wider.


	12. Chapter 12

**Good morning, evening and night to you all.  
I'm listening to Kimbra's album 'Vows'. It's pretty decent, give it a spin.**

* * *

"Well, howdy there, partner! You've come a far piece, haven't ya?"

Even though it had reached 9 o'clock at night, the Strip remained the brightest thing Annie had ever seen. Dressed in her usual merc gear, Annie had hyped herself up all afternoon with the intentions to just walk into the Tops and take Benny out with no hesitation. Instead she had been hijacked by a robot cowboy; his face glitching on the screen of one of the Strip's securitrons.

This was not part of her plan. She gave Boone and annoyed look, praying that robots didn't have the ability to read facial cues. But if it could, it didn't say anything.

"Point me to the Tops, Victor, I have a score to settle." Hand on hip, touching the small pistol, she attempted to look threatening. Boone took note that her little show just made her look like a child with a toy gun.

"Hey now missy, don't get hasty. Ol' Vic is just the messenger. The head honcho of the Strip, Mr. House, is itching to make your acquaintance." Her hand slipped from her gun, not knowing whether to feel worried or to take the whole thing as a compliment. What could Mr. House want from her exactly? "Just head to the Lucky 38, it's the big ol' tower shaped like a roulette spinner."

"And why is a robot passing on his message?" Boone asked from behind her, his form taking away the threatening feeling floating around their heads. He knew that Annie didn't mix well with machinery. Even the robotic dog that the King owned made her a little awkward.

"Well, it was Mr House who made the securitrons… It's the least I could do, considerin'." The robot didn't seem too pleased that Boone had spoken for her. "Don't dawdle. He'll be waiting for you."

And with that, he rolled back off to his post, his face flickering back to a belligerent looking soldier. Annie looked at Boone, brows raised.

"I hate robots."

"I know."

"I mean, I'm thankful that it pulled me out of my grave and all, but-... Agh." She pulled a dead face. "I think Victor really wanted me to go see Mr. House. It was like he-"

"Threatened you?"

"Well, sort of." Annie looked down at her boots, standing awkwardly at the gate while Boone drank in the place he often tried to forget. "I should go and see Mr. House. Get it over with. Looking at all of these robots makes me wonder what the Tops' security is like, anyway... I'm not going in guns ablaze when there's a good change I'd get vaporized before getting through the door."

After the last few days of mulling over her offer, Boone began to realize that he was in it for the long haul. He had to stop her from killing herself, which she obliviously tried to do nearly every day... He nodded.

"It was a bad idea anyway."

"Thank you. See, this is what I mean - don't let me do stupid shit." Her lips pursed into a smile, patting him gently on the arm. "You're an angel, Boone."

He scoffed at her, following her footsteps to the foot of the lit up stairway. Victor was standing at the door, waiting for them. Annie sighed, looking over at Boone with worry quite clear in her dinner-plate eyes.

"House wants something from you. No one's been in this casino for a long time, Anna. I don't think he'd lure you in there to kill you." His words calmed her a little.

"Alright, but if I die in there and you survive, I want you to go kill Benny for me, okay?"

He shrugged at her, causing her to 'tsk' and hike her dress up a bit higher. This 'House' character was going to have to work for her attention, especially when she turned on that sultry voice that had clawed at her throat for days. No one interrupted her master plans, not even the father of New Vegas.

"Hey there Little Lady, it's nice of you to come visit so soon! Now remember, your friend here can't come with you. He can wait in the lobby."

"Will he be okay there?" She glanced back at the haughty man who was staring at the robot with his usual dead eyes.

"Safest casino in all Vegas, missy."

Biting her lip, she let the robot take her inside. Boone sat down on a sofa right in front of the elevator, arms folded across his chest with little interest in the forbidden castle. He and Annie had to be the first people in that casino for years - this was an interesting point in history and he was a part of it.

But really all he wanted was to go back to the Wrangler and go to sleep in the bed he thought his own.

* * *

"Boone!" Annie burst back through the elevators an hour later. "This is where we'll be staying from now on, okay?"

Almost asleep in his chair, Boone jumped at the sudden noise. She laughed at him, heading towards the door.

"Victor, we'll just go and get our stuff from the Wrangler and we'll be back soon." She flashed her keycard at the robot, urging her companion to get up with a nod.

When they were back through the gates to Freeside, the smile slipped off of Annie's face. Her shoulders slumped and she looked up at the man, eyes wide with dread.

"I was killed for a platinum chip. I already knew that, but what I didn't know was that that chip held the key to Vegas. House roped me into his plans - now I have to kill Benny... But it won't be for me; it'll be for House. It just takes all the fun out of it."

"Why do we have to stay at the Lucky 38?" Boone asked, not too excited to be sharing a casino with literally no one other than Annie. That was an eerie thought.

"It's a trust thing. If House thinks I'm really on his side, he won't have me killed. The man is a computer screen, Boone. That terrifies me." They reached the Wrangler quicker than expected, probably due to Annie's ridiculous pacing. "I don't want to be a pawn for a man who I can't even talk to face to face... How am I supposed to know what he's really thinking?"

Pushing through the door, the Garrett twins were shocked to see them.

"Back so soon..?" Francine asked.

"We've come to get our stuff." Annie moaned. "It's not you guys, it's me."

"That's disappointing, doll." James snapped his fingers, making Annie's cheeks tint a soft pink. James was one of those men who swung both ways. He had a thing for robots too, which Annie found amusing considering she and Boone were the ones that had to go out and find FISTO. He always had some way to make Annie laugh. "You'll be back though... They always come back."

"How could I not want to stay in the finest casino this side of Vegas? Of course I'll be back."

James winked at her "You flatter us."

Their room was just as they had left it, under the belief that they would be back later that night. Annie took all their clothes from the drawers and shoved them in her pack, Boone taking the collection of weapons that Annie had left on the long bookcase. Even though Freeside was a bad district, they still felt safe at the Wrangler. It was like a home, albeit a home for chemheads and alcoholics, but still a home.

"It's such a nice place here, I don't know why I agreed to leave." Annie mumbled to herself, rubbing the back of her neck and watching her counterpart make the bed.

"If it guarantees your safety, then you have to do it." He replied stoically, mid-lean over the small bed. She wondered if he couldn't wait to take his shoes off, too. It had been a long day of tying up loose ends around Freeside, and all the hype she had caused in her brain for the sake of killing Benny was wearing off. Now she was just tired.

"Speaking of safety, I don't want to talk to you about whatever House is doing while we're in the Strip. I'm sure he's got ears everywhere in the place... So if you have something to say to me, just tell me that you 'want to go home'." Hoisting the ever increasingly heavy backpack onto her shoulders, Annie sniffed loudly.

He nodded, tucking the last edge under the mattress before straightening up himself.

"And tomorrow we can look around the Strip. I wont go see Benny until it's nighttime, that way there's a better chance of him not noticing me straight away. Then again if he's the boss he won't be down the front desk…" She smiled to herself, eyes widening with potential ideas. "I'll ask around."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself."

She brightened. "I won't," the opportunities were endless "I promise."


	13. Chapter 13

**This is the second update I have posted tonight! If this is the first update you are reading, go back and check the previous chapter to make sure you haven't missed it!  
I made the decision to listen to Nat King Cole while writing. ****_They say that love's a word, a word we've only heard, but can't begin to know the meaning of..._**

* * *

After walking back to the Lucky 38 under the scrutinising scopes of securitrons and drunk patrons, they made it to their suite hesitantly. Not knowing what awaited them, they were shocked to find that their room was almost as big enough to fit a large family. The open space scared Annie a little; almost feeling suffocated with a large buff of selfishness. They didn't need that much room for just the two of them… they could have housed a group of refugees with the amount of doorways she could see.

Backing into the main bedroom together, they shut and locked the door behind them, placing a chair underneath the doorknob for an extra alert if someone tried to break in. It hadn't felt like that at the Wrangler… the lone casino was just creepy.

Out of habit, they fell asleep together on the plush quilts of the king size bed; Boone cradling his rifle and Annie curled up facing the other way, pillows shoved between them like a wall.

The morning after, Boone found himself waking late again. Checking the ticking clock on the wall, he found it read only 8am. _Two hours day light wasted_, he thought, only to remind himself that he was now on the Strip. People were only just going to bed there.

When he decided to pull himself out of bed, he peeped his head out from a crack in the door. Eyes adjusting to the artificial lighting, Boone found Annie fluttering around the apartment, gasping at the carved wooden tables and muttering over the expansive wardrobes. She even laughed happily at the bathtubs, touching the cool porcelain with shaky fingers.

"What did we do to deserve this?" She asked, turning to find him leant against the door frame, watching her with a tense amusement.

"I have no idea." He was confused himself, never seeing such a clean environment before. It was like a pre-war holotape in that casino, not even a stain on the walls... Annie turned on the tap, jumping as the water burst through the spout. Her eyes were wide, slowly looking up at Boone with a pure and unbridled excitement.

"It works." Her pipboy stayed silent, only adding to the girls growing enjoyment. "Oh, and it's not radiated… Oh Boone, did we somehow die in our sleep last night? This is far too good to be true."

He watched as she pulled her dress over her head, throwing it to the tiles by her feet. Her eyes glanced up at him, not really expecting him to leave but knowing he would. She bit her lip, and just as she started to unclip her bra he felt confident that she didn't bother him. He leant over and pulled her curtain closed, heading back into the entrance to secure the rest of the suite.

* * *

Annie sure did scrub up well when she tried. She had spent an hour in that bath, emptying the tub and refilling it when the water turned murky. After that, she spent another hour sorting through the abandoned dresses in the cupboards that burst with an abundance of fabrics. Whoever had lived there before them must have left quickly, or hadn't really left at all. The thought made her uncomfortable, but she shook it off.

Boone hadn't actually seen her without dirt on her face, so when she appeared fresh-faced in a house dress she had found, he had to double take.

"Look at me! Aren't I the prettiest thing you've ever seen?" She teased, looking into a dusty mirror, swiping her palm over it to get a better look. "If I curl my hair, I'll look like all the other women around."

Skipping over to her pack, she returned with Jeannie-Mae's entire collection of make up and a playing card. She cooed over the bottles and cases, holding them too her face and nodding at them in reference to the woman gracing the Jack of Spades. Checking over his rifle, Boone watched out of the corner of his eye, wondering why women went through such a rigid routine to look decent for people who usually didn't care. Carla did it all the time, and Boone always teased her for it...

He sighed.

"I want to look like those women on the billboards. They're the type of women a man from the Strip would go for, right?" Turning to face him, she pushed her bangs off of her forehead. "You reckon it'd be a turn off if this ugly thing ever showed its face?" She touched the scab gingerly, feeling the skin easily give under the weight of her finger. "I actually regret having a bath, now I feel I have to look nice."

She always talked about the least important things. It was like she had a problem.

"You should take me around the Strip today. You've been here before, right?" She asked, squinting at the card to grasp the concept of the painted woman's make up.

"I don't really know the place…" He stretched his back, still a little asleep. "Most of my time here was spent drunk or… hmm." He trailed off, sighing again. The city seemed to suck the life out of him, or at least whatever was left of him. All it did was wake the ghost of Carla, and she was pounding on the basement door.

"Ah." She recoiled. "Well, um…" She turned back to face the bench, awkwardly reinstating herself with the eye shadow swatches. "I'll just go by myself. I'll bring you back something to eat if you'd like?"

He didn't answer her, staring intently at the patterns of her dress. She walked away, never really knowing what to do when he did that. The whole situation caused her to become uncomfortable, struggling to find a reason to ever shut herself down mentally like he did.

Pulling off the pretty dress, she traded it for a much simpler version, vehemently wishing that her companion had turned himself on again. She knew she was lying to herself, letting a sad breath seep from her lips as she strapped her knife and cigarettes to her thigh. Annie adjusted her stockings and dug around in the cupboard for hair rollers, hoping to pass the time with a bit of appearance tinkering.

* * *

Finally free of the sodden casino, Annie set out for facts. She hoped that the layers of make up and nice clothing would cover up who she really was. She concealed her scars as best she could; forcing her hair over her shoulders in loose curls in attempt to ook semi-decent but still keep her past a secret. She'd never spoken to a rich man before – it was daunting. What if they didn't go for women like her..? What if they went for classy, mature women and not rough-talking wasteland walkers?

The Gomorrah looked like 6 the last place she wanted to go. That gave her some confidence, trying to confirm with her brain that she wasn't as bad as she thought she was. If the Gomorrah didn't interest her, then that had to say something nice about her, right?

Deciding against the Ultra Luxe due to the pretentious looking fountain, Annie found herself heading towards the Tops. She was almost drowning in curiosity, wondering what the man who had shot her saw every day. The roof was lined with LEDs, sending bursts of light to fight the arriving darkness of the evening. The Strip was just warming up, customers flooding into casinos and over to prostitutes, NCR soldiers still fresh-faced and ready for a big night. The atmosphere gave her a buzz.

Apprehended at the door, Annie was greeted by a man in a sharp suit.

"Welcome to the Tops, ma'am. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but you're going to have to hand over all your weapons."

"You're free to frisk me, but I don't think you'll find anything." She spoke smartly, the man grinning at her. He took in the shape of her bodice - a girl of her looks could smuggle nothing harmful in, he reasoned. She seemed like another one of those charming women that passed through the Tops from time to time. The guys loved those type of gals, so he ushered her through.

Making a beeline to the front desk, she curled her fingers around the counter top, leaning over to catch the attention of a fine-looking man.

"Hey there, baby." The man caught her eye, standing handsomely straight and professional. The vibe Annie caught off the gentleman gave her full permission to turn on the show. "Welcome to the Tops, and what can I do for you today?"

"I'd like to know how I can get a good-looking guy like you to ask a gal like me out on a date." She grinned at him, hand swinging to her hip. "But I'd also like to know a little more about this casino. You look like a man of power – I bet you're the one that runs the show."

"Ain't been on the Strip long, have you kitty cat? The name's Swank, and this is my joint." His face lit up with prospects, blue-grey eyes skimming over her face with approval.

"You seem like a number one guy, Swank. You must have all the thoughts I need." Licking her bottom lip, she stared up at him with eyes blazing with a flirtatious fire. "But I wasn't kidding about that date, fella, where's your sense of chivalry?"

"You sure are a persistent dame," he winked at her "if you let me finish up here, I'll show you the finest bar this side of Vegas, baby."

She smiled, her painted lips parting to show her teeth. The man winked at her again, shutting the book he was writing in and offering his arm.

A swing band played over the speakers, the casino bursting with an array of different gamblers. The man on her arm directed her towards the bar, talking happily about the decor and greeting other Chairmen with long drawled 'hey's. Every so often Annie would make a point of sending him that same grin she won Boone with, and it worked wonders.

Swank seemed heavily interested in her, spinning off casual compliments and letting his gaze swing from her eyes to her mouth, and straight back to her thick black hair. It wasn't often that a woman of such prowess fell right into his lap; usually he had to work for it. He had a great feeling that this girl would do him great.


	14. Chapter 14

**wahey, there's the high roller! sex is foreshadowed in this part, but nothing bad should effect you.  
I refuse to believe that there's only a handful of songs played on Radio New Vegas - the wasteland knows nothing about royalty payments! Frank Sinatra's 'Sings for Only the Lonely' - the album which includes 'One for my baby' interestingly enough... If you can't listen to ol' blue eyes then who can you listen to?**

* * *

Swank's room was the not as nice as Annie and Boone's.

The suave man's voice had a breath of scotch to it, licking Annie's ear like a greasy tongue. He was a nice guy, but Annie liked him better when he was sober. He was less… loving that way. The lights were dim, Peggy Lee calling softly from the radio and coating the room with a free swarm of the senses. She was drunk on his perfume, tracing the soft fabric of his jacket with steady fingers.

He had her against a charred bookshelf, his rough prints on her chin as he inspected her neck. It seemed like all men had to have a bit of liquid confidence before they bothered with her, Annie noted that with a twitch of the lips; Boone being no different. Men were just as bad as women some days.

Licking the tips of her front teeth, she shook her head out of his grasp. "Are you gonna kiss me or what?" Swank laughed at her, smoothing her hair with his palms. Pushing her bangs off of her face, his eye stray to her wound. He made a sickening sound, causing Annie to cringe. She'd hoped he wouldn't notice it.

"You're a fine broad and all, but what did ya do to get that?" He asked, not letting her go but not advancing either. His eyes were wide, curious yet disgusted. He'd never seen a doll with a scar bigger than a bite mark.

Reaching up and taking his hand from her face, she pressed his digits softly to her forehead.

"I suppose the jig is up… And I was actually looking forward to enjoying you…" She sighed, feeling the give of his touch. He whipped his hand back, recoiling a few steps before pulling his gun from the front of his pants. His hands were the steadiest she'd ever seen, better than Alexander's and sharper than Boone's.

"Give me one reason not to fill you with lead, doll."

"Easy, honey." She reached up and pulled her knife free from her stocking. She held it in the palm of her hand, slowly lowering it to the shelf. The clink of metal hitting wood made his eyes zip between hers and the 'situation', aim faltering from her head to her chest. He took a step back in defence. Her elbow bent to slide it away. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm sorry if it seems like I used you, I didn't mean to."

Reaching behind her back, she heard the safety click on his pistol. She shuddered, continuing to bend so she could lower the zipper. Slipping the dress from her shoulders, her eyes pinpointed his now shaking gun.

That was the only way to get a misbehaving man's attention, it seemed… one just had to take their clothes off… figured. She watched him check for weapons, tucking her curls to one side in a fit to calm him down with a more natural urge.

"Now," adjusting her garter so she could get to her cigarettes, Annie stood as nicely as she could in front of him "I'm here because your boss shot me in the head, and I want to pay him a visit. Now before you press the 'panic button', would you hear me out?" She nodded towards the bed. "Wanna sit down?"

He backed slowly to the sheets, gun never leaving her chest. Her brows were raised, her front gap returning to give her a cheeky look. After lighting a smoke, Annie paced, blowing mushroom clouds of smoke from her red lips before pressing her back against the window, resting against the sill lazily.

"Now you're a smart man, I know that." She winked at him. "And I think you deserve better than what Benny's doing to you." She offered him a cigarette, throwing him the engraved lighter as he accepted. His eyes skimmed over the silver Zippo, a sigh marching to his knees. "He also stole something from my boss. I think you know the man – Mr. House?"

"Benny's been fucking with House?"

"Yes, and he'll get you all burnt if he isn't stopped, bub. House already knows what Benny has done, and if he goes ahead with whatever he's planning you could all be vaporized and packed into a Fiend's jet burner." Her eyes peered into his, the warm red glow from the close Gomorrah gave the room a very nasty feel. "And I think you're a swell guy, Swank, so I want to help you."

"And why should I trust a shifty broad like you?" The gun was put down even so, the older man now crossing his arms across his chest. He seemed interested in the proposition, although a still a little wary.

"Oh honey, I've travelled halfway across the Mojave just to find the man because he shot me. I think I have bigger things on my plate instead of double-crossing you." Stubbing the smoke out on the sill, Annie grinned. Swank accepted this with a curious nod.

"So the big cat's a fink, hey?"

"Yes he is, and I wouldn't doubt that if he failed you would be the first to take the fall." Looking out the window at the strip below, Annie relished the fact that she already had him hook, line and sinker. "With him out of the way, you could finally get the respect you deserve. You run this joint, don't you? Benny just sits in his tower and gets all the credit"

The man stood, straightening his tie. He must have sobered slightly, because his attention was focused on her straight face. Tucking his pistol down the front of his pants, he placed his hands on his hips – pushing his button-up jacket apart to tuck behind his wrists.

"This is a little too much, toots. You can't lead a cat to his bed with good intentions and then throw this on him." Smoothing his hair back, his hand returned to his hip.

"Why mix business with pleasure?" She laughed softly at him, leaning to pick up her dress. The red light set off the angles of his face, making her stop mid bend to drag her eyes down his legs. "But… I suppose can always this off – I'm a pretty easy gal."

A scoff burst from his throat, his tongue wetting his bottom lip with one swipe. He looked her up and down, loosely shrugging his shoulders.

"I have to sleep on this."

"Am I invited?"

"I thought you didn't like to mix business with pleasure?" He teased; already back to loosening his tie. The radio cooed a soft Sinatra, his feet taking him to the carpet in front of her. Pressing his palms on the sill, her arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders.

"The only time I'll ever break the rules for you, Valentino."

* * *

Smoking in the bed, Annie let Swank in on the plan. Her legs were yet to regain feeling from the previous hour, sweat still beading down her forehead. But still, she found a chance to squeeze his arm in thanks.

The table beside the bed began to vibrate with the shudder of the phone, Swank's hand swinging to catch the handle before it got out of control. Holding it in the crook of his neck, he sipped the cigarette with a long draw.

"Mhm… A man? Is he packing? … What does he want?"

Annie took this opportunity to stumble out of bed, the wetness between her legs a different feeling. Pulling her underwear up to her belly button, she watched her lover turn his feet to the floor.

"I'll be right down… No, no don't bother the boss… He told me he didn't want to be disturbed… Okay, pal, it's alright."

"What's wrong?" She asked as he placed the handle down, clipping her bra back around her torso with nimble fingers.

"There's a flat tyre in the lobby." Yanking his pants up his toned legs, Swank buttoned his fly. "He's not moving, and it's making the men uncomfortable. He's not armed, so there's no real reason for anyone to grab him so we're in a bit of a dig."

"A man in the lobby..?" Annie asked, mind flicking to Boone. She _had _been gone a little too long, and she knew exactly how he was about her… Knowing him he was just taking his time to know his surroundings, probably forming a plan to come pull her body from some basement. "Did they say what he looked like?"

"Nothing other than he had real cold eyes."

"Oh…" Tugging her dress over her head, Annie mussed her hair out of its flattened state. "Yep, he's mine."

"You've already got a man? Baby, that's rough."

"That's life, sweetie." Reapplying lipstick in his mirror, she straightened her hem before glancing lazily at him. "Still don't mean I still can't come around. He doesn't have to know everything I do."

They headed to the lobby, the conversation between them meaningless and subtle – avoiding any talk of the real plan. In the elevator, she assured him that she wasn't done with him just yet. The conversation died after that.

Finally making it past the slot machines, Annie's eyes rested on the looming man that everyone seemed to be avoiding. He looked the same as he always did, a step down from the handsome men in suits around her. He still had that clenched jaw, sunglasses on even though it was far beyond the time for that. Annie put on her worried face.

His jaw twitched when he saw her, sweeping her limbs for any marks or scratches. Finding none, Boone let her approach him first.

"Oh honey, what are you doing here?" She asked him dumbly, letting him take her wrist and lead her towards the door. As the door swung open in front of her, she turned and sent Swank one last wink for the night.

He straightened his tie, grinning at her handsomely from the crack of the closing egress. Stepping off the curb, the courier struggled to keep pace in her low-heeled shoes. Boone was rigid with silence, his footsteps like perfect placed movements that seemed only capable to a decorated soldier.

"Hey, nice hat you've got there, fancy pants." A drunk NCR soldier bumped into them as they passed, only making his grip on Annie's wrist tighten momentarily. She laughed at the line, the man haughtily pacing them up the steps of their casino.

He held her in place all up the elevator, dragging her back into the safety of their suite before he dared to look at her again. At first glance he only noticed the pink of her cheeks, cruelly reminded of the girls natural instinct to resort to promiscuity in times of trouble. The thought made him shudder.

The second time, though, he saw the love bites trailed from her ear to her collarbone. Boone let her go, allowing her to float to the other side of the room to take stance.

"What's your problem?" She snapped at him, taking a few steps back so she could remove her clothes. The thought just made him more irritated, having to turn away so he wouldn't look stupid in front of her. If he showed her even the slightest amount of exasperation he knew she would take advantage of it.

"You were gone longer than I expected."

Annie's good mood had been shattered by the sturdy man, the look on his face turning her livid.

"So? It's not like you really cared when I left anyway." Her words were muffled as she threw her dress to the floor. He followed her to the bedroom, trying not to watch as she removed her undergarments. She had a bad habit of doing that in front of him, even though he knew she didn't exactly do it to tease him anymore.

She stalked out to the bathroom, leaning over to turn on the taps. Annie was excited to touch all the parts that had recently been treasured, the feel of a good love still warming in her loins. She could now say from personal experience that Swank knew how to swing. Of course, she couldn't tell Boone that though.

"I'm here to look after you, since you can't seem to do it yourself." He told her, voice rough but still laced with the best intentions. His eyes grazed over the soft skin of her hips, trailing up the stomach to swirl around her breasts. If he weren't an honest man, the situation would have been turned to a different direction.

She pushed her hair behind her ears, stepping into the bath and slipping into the water. She leant her head on the porcelain, honestly expecting him to have walked away by now. But when she opened her eyes, he was leaning on the door frame with an embittered look on his face.

"What do you want from me, Boone?" She grasped the sides of the tub, pulling herself up again. "So I slept with him. It's my body, I'll do what I want with it."

"Weren't you supposed to kill the guy?" He asked, wondering how a girl bent on blood lust had so successfully ruined her own plan. She just laughed at him.

"That wasn't the guy I'm looking for. That's his right hand man." Leaning back, they kept eye contact. "I'm trying to be more strategic – not get myself shot up by a bunch of boobs in suits."

He just sighed and shook his head, turning back to the main room to walk away.

"You look like you're disappointed in me and I'm completely fine with that!" she called after him, soaping her feet lovingly. Boone lit himself a cigarette to fight the annoyance. "I want you to know that you're the only one feeling something about this!"

He just shook his head, returning to their bed to quietly stare at the ceiling.


	15. Chapter 15

**I've been listening to A LOT of Simon and Garfunkel while writing over this past week. If you haven't had the pleasure of actually listening to them (how have you not, seriously) you should definitely look them up. Buy their stuff on iTunes, I don't know.  
And, I've been following the tracking graph for this story and it's getting pretty popular. Surely all these views can't be from myself... let me know, in the comments section... let me know...**

**PS back to Brando here, if you have ever seen A Streetcar Named Desire (1951) then you'll get what I mean when I say I see Boone as Brando. The clothes and general mood, really, not the rapey psychopath side of things. 'CARLA!' ... 'CARRRRRLA!'**

* * *

Annie bought them both drinks when she returned to bed that night. Sitting on her crossed legs, she watched Boone with heavy eyes. Mouth hidden by the rim of a glass, she offered his – gently letting it pass to his hands as he accepted. The pillow wall that they built each night lay half done, the last piece rested forgotten at his knee.

The courier had turned on the radio on her way to bed, trying to lighten the mood even the slightest. Not that it helped at all, only added a comedic back track to their dreary treaty.

"I'm sorry that I worried you." Grating the taste of whiskey off of her tongue with her teeth, Annie held out her hand in an apologetic gesture. Boone's eyes were free of his glasses, giving her a chance to see the flicker of recognition that flashed by.

"Ask me for my 'protection' and then walk straight into a bad situation." He shrugged, grabbing her hand long enough to shake it. "I accept."

"Thanks for understanding. Surely all this time together has allowed you to gather that I'm really not one for thinking things through. _But _tonight I got lucky, heh… Well," holding up her finger to pause the conversation, Annie threw the last shot of juice down her throat. She coughed. "I had a good talk tonight with Benny's best man. We made this whole plan about what we can do to bring the fucker down."

"Sounds like a real nice guy. Not too loyal, I take it." Watching Annie stagger up on her skinny legs, he closed his eyes and lay back on the headboard. The courier grabbed the bottle, heading back to lie on her stomach beside him.

"He's a decent guy, Boone. Just not too keen on getting his ass kicked back into the wastes." The clink of glass on glass opened his eyes, tiredly holding out his own for a second serve.

"I was under the impression that you were looking for blood rain." She really liked the way Boone could shoot her down with such a calm look on his face.

"I figured it would be a bad idea if I decided to massacre an entire hotel of attractive men. It would be a living blasphemy."

Boone let out a soft 'heh'.

"But still, all this preparation is exciting. Maybe there's more to life than mindless bloodshed." She winked at him, pulling herself back up on her elbows to take a sip of her drink. An awkward smile (small but new) forced itself onto his face, the alcohol thawing his cheeks to a warm, toasty feeling.

"There's a lot more to life, that's for sure." Resting the glass on his knee, he stared off to the door. The chair that they had placed under the doorknob was straining against the off-coloured carpet, sending Boone little faith about their safety in the old casino.

Licking his bottom lip, he looked over at the girl who was smiling all the same. She had her hands curled around her glass, staring at the sloshing peach liquid with blank eyes.

Her profile was sharper than he had realised, like slopes of a small canyon. She looked like she'd had her nose broken before too, the bump on the bridge protected by a little pink scar. The woman was a rag doll, stuffed with a blended brain they had built from the fleshy debris picked up from her desert grave.

Boone decided that it was just plain bad luck to wake up with no collection of anything. Remembering came easy to Annie, but she never really remembered useful things. _Mostly feelings, _she explained to him one night a while before, _feelings and faces. _She could even explain just how much it hurt to have one of Manny's fists in your face, which Boone could understand because he had experienced it himself.

It was so odd how fate had a way of following strings.

"Hey lounge lizard, you done staring at me?" Annie's eyes were bright with a polite humour. He sniffed out of his daydream, focusing back in on the courier's face.

"You wish." He gestured for the bottle and she shrieked in approval.

"Are you joking with me?" She punched his arm repetitively in an affectionate way. "You need to drink more often, you are a completely different person…-" She trailed off, eyes widening with the brightness of her cheeks.

"I was just thinking…" He started, cutting her off to avoid the conversation. He didn't want to ruin a good thought so soon. It wasn't often that a weird streak of faith ran through him - it like waving at a cruise ship from the dock below.

"Ooh, do tell?" She rolled onto her stomach to sit up next to him. Her enthusiasm gave him a mild stage fright.

"How things all tie together…" He kept his glass to his lips to keep his voice low. "You to Manny to me."

"Are you sure you've never taken chems?" She cracked at him, eyes squinting as she thought to herself. They sat in silence, Boone dwelling on the Khans at Bitter Springs while Annie thought about his words. Things did tend to tie together in the universe, like a happy author weaving a desert story. Of all the people, it had to be a particularly quiet sniper and a questionable Jezebel, roped together by an ultimately estranged friend.

Annie felt she owed Carla a thank you for lending Annie her husband. She'd grown used to the company of the man, knowing that if she did die prematurely she'd shake the woman's hand in the after life. She had left behind a pretty decent soul – even if he was a brick wall half of the time… Annie probably would have rotted on the road to the Repconn Centre without him.

Spending days on end with a single person really gives one something to think about. Your bodies tend to sync with each other, only really responding to their cues. Annie spoke when Boone couldn't, and he killed the things she didn't know how to. They meshed together like the taste of a radscorpion casserole. You'd think it wouldn't work, but it surprisingly did.

He reached up and took his beret off, resting it on the bedside table, downing the rest of his drink before setting it gently on the wood. His fingers rubbed his eyes, watching the younger woman sip the bottle quietly.

"I'm going to bed. Would you like the light on, or off?"

"Off please." She had already put a cigarette in her mouth, Boone's path back to bed lit by the warm glow of the lighter. Annie offered him one as he sat down beside her, his palm crushing the already brittle packet as he tapped one through the hole in the top. They smoked in silence, faces glowing like the burning cherries.

* * *

Annie woke with the realisation that she was going to kill Benny that night... that or she was walking to her certain death. Either way, the idea was thrilling - her body bouncing with a positive buzz throughout the day.

Standing around in her underwear and hair curlers, she ran through her plan with each swipe of mascara. Boone had disappeared back to Freeside for the day (although he decided to sneak to the Vegas ruins to pick off fiends) because he had started to develop cabin fever.

She couldn't blame the man for wanting to escape for a while. The two spent each living moment together, cooped up in the Lucky 38 but only resigned to one room. Annie didn't trust House, and Boone understood that. He was more than content to sacrifice half a bed, considering the presidential suite was probably used to host much larger guests than him. The beds could fit three people without even trying.

But seeing her face every day was beginning to become the norm. He thought about that as he picked off Fiends from the corner of a rotting building. His back was against the cooling concrete, the sun beginning to sink into the ground behind him, the shrieks and zaps of laser pistols not enough to sink through the wall that protected him.

He didn't mind killing fiends. They usually deserved it. They were the kind of people beyond repair; like animals travelling in a very unstable pack. Hopped up on all sorts of drugs, they never played nice or fair and often took advantage of their unbalanced sense of right and wrong. It was like humans were slowly reversing the theory of evolution, returning to their primeval stages.

Fiends were relentless, continuing to file out into plain view – so fucked up that they didn't understand they were walking to their own deaths. And he'd kill them all, or at least try to until he ran out of ammo.

Annie stood in front of the mirror and sighed, eyes shuffling over the wrecked playing card. The woman on the front seemed so confident, winking from behind little black clubs that hid all her bits and pieces. The courier lit a cigarette, wandering around the apartment with little to do. She always managed to get ready too early – too eager to start the night when the sun had only just set.

Boone returned an hour later, out of ammo and low on caps. The _ding _of the elevator made the girl jump, tugging on a house dress to greet the man at the bedroom door. Leaning against the frame, she smiled gently as he appeared – scanning over him with easy eyes. His faded olive shirt was stuck to his back, itching to be taken off and changed but left alone due to company. There was something stirring in her; a soft arousal burning from the torch of masculinity. She had a thing for men who were... well, men. Not smooth-talking walking suits, but hardworking, dirty men. And in that moment Boone was the epitome of that.

"You're very sweaty." She pointed out, moving slightly to let him push past her. "Have you been back at the Wrangler… hanging out with Beatrix?"

"I'm going to take some caps." He told her, dipping into the leather purse. "Ran out of ammunition."

"Well, alright then." Folding her arms, her eyes followed him about the room. "Now I'm going out tonight to do 'the deed'. Are you staying here, or are you coming too?"

"Do you want me to?"

"You don't _have _to. I have it all under control." She looked ridiculous with a head full of curlers. Her smile stayed the same regardless, her usual face full of make up heavier and darker to bring out features she didn't really have. "But considering you've been cooped up in here all week I figured you'd want to get out a little."

Boone shook his head, much preferring to tend to the laser burns on his legs. He'd never tell her that though, favouring her idea of his slipping sanity. His life in Novac after Carla had died was exactly the same. Work, sleep, work and sleep… If he could do it there, he could certainly do the same on the Strip. Besides, Boone didn't feel right walking around on the same asphalt where his late wife walked only years before.

The sooner that Annie killed Benny, the sooner they could return to the Wastes. Although the soft bed and warm baths were a plus, they didn't beat the dull thud of a Legionnaire's skull hitting the ground. He often fell asleep fantasizing about that sound.

"I'll stay here." Pushing the caps into his pocket, he brushed past her again. "I'll be back." She patted him on the lower back as he left, the man shooting her a very tired look as the elevator doors closed around him. The woman's face grew red to match her sticky grin, returning to the mirror to remove the cylinders from her hair; fervently hoping that Boone would one day man up and accept her offer.


	16. Chapter 16

**This story is hard to write for me. I'm sorry if I can't keep a regular quality throughout the entire thing. I just never really liked Benny, ya know? I wanted to get another one out tonight because I haven't updated in a few days (obviously not including today) but really all I want to do instead is go cuddle the fuck out of my boyfriend.**

**People, people, this is my second update for today. Check back to the last chapter if this is the first one you're reading for today, you may have missed one!**

**'Shoot the Water' - Austra**

* * *

The guards that protected Benny's room were called downstairs the moment she had stepped in the door. Annie's plan had been thrown instantly into action, Swank being completely comfortable with her seemingly ingenious plan. He had given her a pat on the ass for good luck, telling her to steal the show the best she could. All she managed to do, though, was shiver, not entirely comfortable with the idea of returning to him after. If he still wanted to sleep with her after she murdered his boss, then he had a real problem.

To every other patron at the Tops, she was just a Chairmen groupie. First she had Swank, now she was after Benny. It was completely normal in the day-to-day routine; women were passed around like a peace pipe.

No one bothered her as she made her way to Benny's suite, assuming only the best about the attractive young woman. She was there to tend to the big boss's needs… like any other woman would. She was there to play nice.

But not really.

Annie knocked on the door, pressing her chest out and holding her chin high. The sultry smile she had practised for hours in the bedroom mirror made its début appearance when the door swung open.

"Hello," he greeted, ushering her in. He must not have recognised her, due to the many layers of foundation and eye shadow she had laid on hours earlier. It wasn't over the top, just on the heavy side of normal; Boone not even being able to match the voice to the face when he returned home later that evening. "My buddy says that you're here for me, but to be completely true with ya doll I'm not really up for the whole kit tonight, dig?"

"Surely there must be something I can do for you?" Her eyes found his face for the first time in what had seemed like eternity. Benny was just as cold as she remembered him… icy blue eyes and a strong jaw, hair gelled back in a handsome quiff. An attractive man, that was, if he wasn't such a snake.

His eyes trailed over her face, not registering who she was a second time. A rookie mistake; apprehended mentally by a pretty woman in a dress. His second in charge made the same error, giving Annie a slight kick out of her abilities. What was it about men in suits being the easiest to bend?

"Have a few drinks with me, first." He offered a stool, letting her sit down gracefully before sliding her a glass of vodka. _Only the finest for the man of the hour,_ she thought, enraged. Being in the same room as her attempted killer made her blood boil – and what made it worse was that he didn't even remember her face. "What's your name, kitty cat?" He placed his hand on her thigh.

She kept her cool, a smile swarming to her face.

"They call me Anna."

Still nothing. The grin on his face made her bite her tongue, a string of curses trying to claw it's way out of her throat but instead fading out into a collective sigh. She had gone so long looking for this man, imagining his face when he first saw her again... but this, this was not something to proud of. She must not have made the impact she thought she had.

The man noticed this, squeezing her thigh sympathetically.

"You don't sound too happy to be here, dolly."

Her eyes lit suddenly and she laughed at him, taking his hand from her knee and kissing the knuckles quietly. If Plan A failed so suddenly, there was always Plan B to fall back on. And Plan B was always the same - play on a man's natural desire. It worked nine times out of ten, only really failing with Boone but that was understandable. The man was a rock, but Benny was a boy - fleshy and flushing at any move she made.

"You're a smart man, Benny. That's why I'm here." Her lips brushed the tough skin of his fingers, tongue darting out to take the tip of his forefinger into her mouth. Running her teeth softly along his nail, the man watched her with fiery eyes – not attempting to stop her in any way, his ego slightly stroked by her smooth words. "My name's Anna. Surely you remember me."

His eyes dragged over her face in further attempt to pull her from his buried memories. Nothing came up, like an empty row on a slot machine. There was no winning bells and no drop of cash. The girl was the moment before the next pull of the lever.

"I'd remember a broad like you." He felt the tip of her shoe brush the inside of his leg, sending his tongue to swipe his own bottom lip. She grinned, a certain cog shuddering to life in his brain. Ideas began to sprout from his mind, blooming into ugly flowers of remembrance and guilt. "What in the goddamn…"

The gap in her teeth nearly made him jump out of his skin. It was _her._

Annie watched in pleasure as the blood drained from his face. There was nothing like a man that knew he was caught, especially a fully grown one. Even though she was glowing, Benny was quaking in his polished leather shoes. The last time he had seen that unsaintly snarl was when he had shoved a gun in her face.

Slipping off the stool and standing in front of him, she rested her palms on his shoulders and leant in closely, brushing her nose with his.

"Oh, I'm no broad, honey." She kissed him chastely on the mouth, his bottom lip beginning to tremble ever so slightly to compete with the rush of thoughts in his head. Hiking her dress, her hands reached into her garter to take out her knife, before laying it to rest on the bar. Her fingers returned to his lap, squeezing the soft skin of his inner thighs. "But you should have emptied your barrel, asshole."

Build his trust, and then take it away. That's how it went. Reaching into his jacket, she took his gun off holster and placed it beside her knife, tapping the table to get him to acknowledge this. Annie licked her lips to remember the taste of the man - to savour the experience that little bit more... she pulled him to his feet by the neck of his tie.

If Benny weren't rendered speechless, he would have taken the most dangerously sexy broad he had ever seen to bed. His heart was actually racing at the thought of a woman who could hold herself against him. Dolls like that were few and far between… It really was a pity he had tried to kill her.

"Swank… that dirty fink." They were the only words he could burst through his grit teeth.

"Swank doesn't know shit." Annie bit back, maddened that she was the last one he thought about. "Don't give him all the credit, Benny. I did this myself." They were chest to chest, nestled between two bar stools in a stalemate. Annie didn't want to kill him just yet, and Benny didn't exactly know what to do with his hands.

For once in his life Benny was struck useless for what to say. The man he had prided himself for being was now cowering in front of an undead broad, like a little boy facing the wrath of his mother. He'd been caught, a rare occasion, in his own apartment with his pants down. Now, he couldn't help being swept up by a woman like her – after all, he was only human. But her grip on his tie was so tight that he could feel the hatred radiating from her.

Realising his lack of brain function would probably get him killed, he pulled away from her grasp. Straightening his tie, he grinned suavely down at her. "Let's keep this smooth, baby, real smooth." He seemed to have his head in check for the first time in a while, savouring the look on the girl's face when she realised he wasn't exactly going to lie down and accept defeat.

Women like her worked on a pride basis – belittle the man into thinking he was not good enough for her. He had to give her credit; any other situation and her façade would have worked... But his life and his dynasty were at risk, and there was no way he was going to walk away from it like a coward.

"Sit down and drink with me, baby?" He offered Annie her seat back, her jaw tensing at her loss in battle. The war, however, was still raging – static dancing between them with cracks and pops. She sat, although begrudgingly.

"You drink first." She spoke as he slipped gracefully down in front of her. The weapons remained abandoned on the counter. With a delighted smirk, he picked up his glass and toasted to her. He'd gotten her worried.

"I gotta ask," he took a handsome sip of his drink, eyeing Annie over the rim of the glass "how is it that you're still living?" She hated him even more now that he had outsmarted her… again.

"We'll call it luck and leave it at that."

"With luck like that you should look into gambling, baby doll." The hair on her neck rose. Was he seriously trying to be civil? Her eyes sprung to her knife, heart falling when she realised there was no way in hell she could grab it without him retaliating instantly. She was stuck. Her plan had failed already. "And once you were vertical… how'd you track me down?"

She smiled, regardless of the situation.

"I'm very persistent."

"That's one word for it." He took another drink, pushing her tumbler closer to her. She haughtily snatched it up, crossing one leg over the other to seem comfortable. She wasn't going to let him see how wound up she was already. "I guess that's enough scratching around first base… So tell me baby, which ways the wind gonna blow?"

"Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you." She asked, her brows rose in question as she spun the liquid in her glass with a cock of her wrist. His cockiness was the cherry on top of a bad night.

"You've got a crazy drop on me, baby, that's for sure. If killing's what you came to do, now's the time for it." He leant back, hands in his lap like a very calm gentleman "But baby – you're disappointing me. All the trouble you went through to arrange this shin-dig? Must be something else you want from me."

"There's nothing more I want from you other than the satisfaction of hearing you beg for your life." She hissed, curling her hands around the edge of the bar.

"Well," Benny straightened his tie, placing his unfinished drink on the table. He stood to full height over Annie: giving her a chance to finally snatch her knife "this is endsville, baby – may the best man win."

Holding up his finger to make her wait, he removed his jacket and folded it nicely, leaving it on his stool. He untucked a knife from his ankle, holding it to his fighting stance. "Might even the odds a little for you, hey kitty cat?"

The two stood, circling each other like over-excited fiends, but still not willing to make the first strike in fear of the other being better prepared. His eyes were wild like a tribal's, thrilling Annie into an old memory of a knife fight she had been in before. The only thing she learned from that was that both parties went home wronged.

Jumping back from what could have been a deep stab to the gut, Annie swung her blade and drew a ribbon of red down the side of his face. The slice must have felt like a tickle, because he didn't even flinch – grabbing her arm and pulling her into him for another deep stab in the stomach.

This time the knife hit its mark, pushing through layers of muscle and fat to get stuck at the hilt. Annie let out a gasp of pain as she bit down on his shoulder; resting her head there as he went to pull himself out. She took the chance to wrap her arm around his waist, pulling the knife back in but opening up his back to her own blade.

An estimation of sorts helped her strike her knife through two rungs of his spine, her own torso shaking from the pain that burnt through nerves like an out-of-control wildfire. His hand dropped from the stiletto, his strangled cry gurgled into her neck. She twisted the switch blade with all her might, severing whatever cords she could in the short amount of time she had.

As he huffed and puffed in her ear, she stabbed him as many times as she could; the knife drifting through the skin like butter. The blood on her hands was slipping the knife, splitting her palms wide once again. The pain was nothing compared to the twitching knife pressed into her belly with every thrust made.

She could survive a stomach wound, he couldn't function without legs – that was her reasoning as he collapsed on her. Using the little strength she had, Annie pushed the suffering man off of her. Her eyes caught the handle of his knife wobbling in her gut, tears springing uselessly from her ducts to her cheeks in complete shock.

Benny fell backwards on the blade, the sounds coming from his throat making Annie's whole body cringe. The feeling she felt was not triumph, but absolute horror. The courier had dreamed of that moment since she had first awoke in Goodsprings, but now that it was there it was nothing like she had hoped for.

Annie left the knife in, dropping to her knees to hobble to the man. He stared up at her, eyes filled with wounded pride and defeat. The look gave her very little satisfaction, feeling like she had paid the ultimate sacrifice for a very stupid idea.

Leaning over the man, she touched his cheek, shaking her head.

"I'm actually sorry for this." She told him, shifting to take pressure off the knife in her stomach. Taking it out would have just given more places for the blood to go - keeping it in plugged the hole. "I'll applaud you for trying, though."

Grabbing his nose with one hand, Annie covered his mouth with the other. He would have fought against her but he had lost far too much blood to even care about fighting back. His breaths sputtered through the spare gaps in her fingers, oxygen running low enough to start his body panicking.

Annie watched the life fall from his eyes, not knowing what exactly had killed him but rejoicing regardless. She was alive and he was not. That's what she had come to do, and that was how it had gone down.

Standing up shakily, her body was running on pure adrenalin. She tugged on Benny's jacket to hide the small patch of blood seeping through the once lovely dress, tucking the gun in the deep pockets as a memory. With whatever precarious strength she had left, Annie stumbled out of there.

* * *

Leaning haphazardly against a securitron that was guarding the Strip gates from Freeside, Annie wobbled on her feet. The picture of the gruff officer was flickering violently; although not rigged hurt her anymore due to House's sharp trust.

"Victor!" She banged on the screen, not caring if she got vaporised. The pain would have been a lot less than whatever she was feeling at that moment. "Victor, will you please tell Boone that I've gone to the Mormon fort for the night!"

The face remained a cop, the robot whirring tiredly under the harsh lights.

"Move along please." The twitch made her whole body cringe, aching to take the knife out but couldn't if a certain robot was going to be slow about it.

"Just tell Boone I'm in Freeside, will you?" She thumped on the plastic screen guard. Her bloody hand slapped to her face in defeat, dragging her cheeks with a wet grip. "Fuck this…" She sunk a little, her legs beginning to give out. Her body had begun to come down from the adrenalin rush, the high stakes of the situation finally settling in. There was a good chance that she was going to die, and she wasn't quite ready to accept that. But by god, her legs would not answer her prayers.

A couple of Freeside kings had been drawn the commotion, recognising her from the table of the King himself. One had crouched to her level, his striped shirt revealing a rusty dogtag with _PACER _crudely scratched into it. The smoke in his mouth didn't bother his eyes, only making him look more menacing under the bright white LEDs.

"If you take me to the Mormon fort, I'll give you 50 caps…" She breathed, throwing her head back against the robot's leg. Her chest was shaking from the shock of the wound, fingers twitching like an allergic reaction.

The man watched her, the younger king shifting awkwardly in his spot. "100 caps… 200?" Her eyes grew wide at the night sky, the crouching man not moving at all. "300? 300 caps each! Please!" Tears curled down her face, streaking through the blood left by her fingers not long ago. "Please, oh man, please." She murmured to no one in particular.

"Boss…" The smaller king started, Pacer's eyes flickering to the knife in her stomach. He offered her a drag of his stick, Annie's chest sagging as she nodded her head softly. Placing the filter in her mouth, he watched her suck in as much smoke as she could. The nicotine seemed to calm her down.

His eyes shone for the broad, deciding against his original instincts to leave her there. If a woman could still manage to take a drag while bleeding out on a securitron, she deserved to be saved. Pacer stood, flicking the butt away with his forefinger and thumb. The red of the cherry bounced on the broken pavement, her eyes following it slowly before finally closing for the last time that night.

Hoisting Annie under the arm of their dirty jackets, the men led her to the Followers.


	17. Chapter 17

**woops where did i go? (no one knows)**

**don't forget to leave me some feedback, people. i love you and your ability to send my reader graph into a beautiful set of stairs.**

* * *

Trapped to the confines of a ragged bed, Annie was tucked up maturely with a book and a set of Arcade's spare glasses. It was early in the morning and Boone had still not found her, the courier only assuming the worst but really not minding. If he had left her in a fit of cabin fever, she would have understood. It wasn't like she had started to depend on his company or whatever… he was free to leave at anytime…

She pressed the glasses up the bridge of her nose and huffed.

Julie Farkas thought Annie was the luckiest girl in the world – surviving a bullet to the brain and then a supposedly fatal stab wound to the stomach. Benny's knife had missed every vital organ, slipping between two rows of small intestine like meat between bread. Julie Farkas wanted someone to write a book about that.

Annie's vision had supremely updated itself with the help of the blonde doctor's glasses. It was like a whole new world had appeared in front of her eyes, her hands no longer fuzzy and ridiculous. She'd thought that normal though, turns out it wasn't. Now she could read a book without having to squint herself to a headache, of which she was doing for a good hour before the man took pity on her.

"How could you not know you needed some sort of glasses?" He had huffed at her, not too impressed with her lack of self-preservation.

"I dunno, I probably _used_ to wear them…" He was far too sassy for her to handle with a sick stomach. He found her so amusing; a miracle of science but a full loss of education. "I got shot in the head remember? Because I don't."

Boone had already checked the Tops casino, standing stoically at the front counter until someone grew the nerves to serve him. Swank, who was slightly irritated by the negative force swirling in his lobby, told him that the girl that was wrapped up in a chequered jacket had simply waltzed out with a wave goodbye, not even bothering to look him in the eye. And when he had checked Benny's suite later that night, the Chairman found his boss glassy-eyed in a pool of his own blood. He didn't tell the sniper that, though.

Feet tucked into the rungs of a bar stool, Boone was back at the Wrangler, searching for leads on his missing companion. No one had seen or heard a thing about the missing courier, the man slowly coming to terms with the idea that she had left him. Contemplating drinking, he cursed himself and forced himself to stand up. He flipped a couple of caps in Francine's direction, heading towards the door.

It burst open before he could reach the handle, suddenly chest to chest with a jovial king. Pacer was just wanting a bit of absinthe to take the edge off the morning. Besides, he had the caps for it now – the broken courier spoiling him with almost bountiful riches. Falling into each other's personal space, the men awkwardly stepped back two paces.

"Don't want no trouble today, man." Pacer had his arms up, backing away to the bar. With a grin on his face, he turned to Boone's abandoned seat only to realise that that was the man the Followers were looking for. Whipping back around, he clicked his fingers at the exit. "Hey, buddy, you searchin' for your woman?"

Boone stopped, foot halfway out the door. The term 'woman' was not to be handled with such humour, his eyes subconsciously evening at the jittery soul. He nodded all the same, waiting for the taller, skinnier man to say something.

"She's at the Followers' fort." He snapped his fingers into guns, turning back to the seat so he could run his hand through his hair. Happy as a clam, Pacer slapped the caps down on the bar; so hard that he didn't even hear the door slam closed; bouncing in the hinges to scuttle to place. It was about time that 'The King' (the main man upstairs, the real thing) gave him a pat on the back instead of a kick up the ass.

Julie Farkas caught Boone on the outskirts of the fort, her stern voice breaching annoyed that he hadn't come sooner. He didn't know, to his defence, he had even went to bed early that night knowing she'd come home. She said she had a fantastic plan, and that it was 100% guaranteed to work! … He definitely should have known better.

He was lead to her bedside, the fort brimming with life around him but his heart expecting the worst. Farkas didn't say anything to him on the way there, her wrist flicking over a chart with a lead pencil, only trying to reinstate the idea of Annie's demise by his lack of consideration.

It was only when he was bedside did he realise that Annie was no closer to death than he was. He could hope for it with all his heart, but they both still managed to wake up in the morning no harm no foul. His eyes rolled tiredly beneath the shades.

There she was, as right as rain, curled up with a book and wearing… what was it? Reading glasses? There was nothing sophisticated about that woman, especially when she looked like someone had slapped make up on a lakelurk.

"What happened?" He asked her glumly when he sat down on the musty chair beside her bed.

"Benny stabbed me." Her eyes brightened at his company, dog-earing the page and placing it down in her lap. "He's gone, though. Stabbed him back, twice as hard." A grin found her face, though it wasn't as enthusiastic as it usually was. Annie caught his brow twitch, pulling the glasses off from behind her ears.

Rubbing the black sockets, she tugged the blanket down to show him her bare stomach. "Julie patched me up real nice. Apparently the knife missed all the good stuff, so I should be back on my feet in no time."

"No heavy lifting!" Julie piped from outside the tent. "Just because it missed all the 'good stuff', doesn't mean you didn't damage your abdominal muscles."

"Hm." Boone had his thumb under his chin, fingers resting on his lips. "So your plan didn't go to plan?"

"No, not really." She frowned, staring at her bandaged hands only to have her eyes back to his after only a few seconds. "But he's good as gone, I'll tell you that. I would have liked to have looked around his place but I didn't think I'd last long with that damn knife in me so I came here instead." Her chest heaved wearily. Regardless of her pep, Boone could see she wasn't fully ripe yet. "Thanks for finding me though."

"It's alright." He watched her quietly while she shifted her feet out of the bed. She began to pull on her dress, softly handling it over the bandages. Rubbing the remnants of lipstick free from her mouth in the reflection of a clock, she bent herself slightly over to pick up Benny's jacket.

She gave it to Boone to fold, the older man emptying its pockets before squaring it over his arm. He tucked the poker chip into his pocket, waiting until Annie finished changing until he handed her the gun.

"Is this yours now?"

"I… I don't really want it." She took the nose of the gun, rolling it in her palms. "I think I only grabbed it for a keepsake but now that I'm looking at it it just makes me feel ill." She pressed it back to him with a look of aversion on her face.

"Would you want to sell the keepsake you killed a man for?" He asked, folding the gun between his hands. Annie looked at him, irritated, stubbing her pointy shoes past her bruised toes.

"Not that it's any of your business, _Boone, _but I would really prefer to not think about nearly getting split pout to pussy right now. Can we just go back to the casino? I want a bath and then I want to go look around Benny's room… He might have some information on who I am." Her hands cradled her purse, eyes semi-bright and still glazed from the stimpaks.

He tucked the gun into his pocket, the tiniest twitch springing to his eye as she punched his arm with the strength of a bighorner. Leaving Arcade's glasses on the bed, Annie beckoned Boone out into the morning sun.

"Thank you for finally figuring out where I was. Was beginning to wonder where you had gone." Annie turned on her heel to walk backwards in front of him through the fort. Her stomach didn't hurt too much – she was more worried about the jutting streets of Freeside jiggling her stitches.

"Figured you'd left." He muttered back in his gravel voice, hands in the pockets of his cotton pants. Her brow rose, a smile pulling onto her face.

"There's no easy way to say this, sweetheart, but I don't think I'll be leaving you for a long time." They reached the large wooden gate, Annie's back pressing against the warm timber. He waited in front of her, feeling slightly better after realising that she hadn't skipped town on him. "I'm sorry about that, by the way." The door groaned open, Annie ushering him out with a hand on his lower back. "But that's your fault for sticking with me."


	18. Chapter 18

**hello guys, welcome to this lengthy chapter that allows you to sip a coffee without moving. it was a drag to write but you can probably tell where i've been writing high again, i don't know. i'm not too happy with it but it needed to be done i suppose. in fact i don't even know what i am doing. **

**i recommend some sweet valley**

**it's nearly christmas so merry christmas to you guys around the world. i hope you're enjoying your snow. **

* * *

Only two weeks after killing Benny, Annie was back on her feet and crushing the skull of Big Saul with the hard vertical vibrations of a bookcase. Boone had taken out Nero with a bust of pellets to his chest, spattering blood over the very stony-faced Cachino. The once great feeling of bone crumbling beneath her palm was nothing more than a bore to her now. Killing under order was just not as fresh as killing for loose change.

They (or just Annie with Boone on a leash) had become House's personal 'workers', picking up the slack of the now dead protégée and turning profit and not dire loss. House used Annie as a dish rag, cleaning up all the spills and 'free will's that House couldn't deal with personally. It was like she was a gun for hire, which was definitely something she didn't feel like doing. She was her own woman.

Annie had grown weary of The Strip, the place once beautiful and bright now a constant reminder of her neon prison. She hadn't signed up to be held hostage by a barrage of pixels, especially with the thought of the death-bots wheeling all around them. Something she felt would be a life-changing moment was smothered by a wet blanket printed with the face of a man far past death.

That night after coming home from the Gomorrah, Annie disappeared to House's suite before bursting through the elevator doors an hour later. She flounced around in front of him for a while, bouncing on a silent fight in her mind as he watched her with amused eyes. Literally dancing around a subject it seemed, folding his arms with the pride of knowing her like a soul mate. She finally gave up and only found time to full the bathroom curtains closed.

Boone turned to the dining room, taking things from the fridge to sooth the ache in his stomach left by the empty feeling that was gnawing constantly at his gut. His mind confirmed Annie's worst fears – boredom. He had left Novac to find a path of bloodied Legion bodies, not a golden-brick road to luxury.

But he stayed because Annie was still there. His conscience was already a half-played jenga set and he did not need the Annie-block to be pulled out just yet. She was a part of the foundation – 'losing' (he used that term lightly) her would probably mean the collapse of life once again. Then there would be nothing to live for, just a bunch of blocks to pick up to build for the third time in ten years. Not that he cared for her, not at all… he just knew that if he left her alone in the wasteland she would be deathclaw chow within a week. Living with her dinner-plate eyes in the back of his mind would send him mad.

Well, mad-er than he was now.

"Boone?" Annie was drying her hair with a towel at the foot of the bed, dressed in her new lightweight metal armour. For the first time since they had arrived in New Vegas, her face was free of make up. He had forgotten that her cheeks were flicked with freckles, remembering that she was actually human and not a painted doll with a killing complex. "I've got somewhere to be. I'm going to leave tonight."

She packed her bags silently, and he could see the words itching to jump from her tongue but she bit them back with the gapped pegs she called teeth. She looked thoroughly unimpressed, though he didn't dare say anything. Not that he said much anyway. Whatever she had to do alone was none of his business.

"I'm going to head down to the 188, pick up that Veronica girl. You can walk with us as far as Novac, and then I have to leave you for a while. I know you won't ask why."

She turned to lean her lower back against a bookcase, flattening her palms around the top shelf.

"I won't be gone too long, I promise you that. You're a big boy, I'm sure you can handle a couple of days without me to look after. Go have fun on the Strip, or, er… stay in Novac. Tab is on me." She sounded strained, like it was hard for her to let him down. Boone was a prime companion who knew Annie like the back of his hand… so; really he didn't understand the reason she would leave him behind… "Don't look at me like that."

"I'm not looking like anything." He leant his hip next to her, crossing his arms. Even with his eyes hidden by tinted glass he looked menacing. Now, after all his thoughts about 'needing to keep the girl safe' did he realise that his life really wasn't that simple. She would find a way to slip out of his grasp – like she always did - always throwing herself headfirst into things that needed a foot in the door beforehand.

She smiled up at him sweetly, eyes grazing over his rigid face.

"Are you going to miss me or something?" She ribbed, punching him in the gut. He didn't take the time to flinch, only staring her down more intently than the last time. "So you're not going to ask me where I'm going, you're just going to stare it out of me?" She tsk'd "That's not gonna work, buster. I beat a god damn gun at a staring contest- your steely eyes of persistence ain't going to work on me."

A ghost of a smile drifted past his lips and he straightened up to walk away. Annie watched him head towards the door, grinding her teeth at the thought of being without her own personal bodyguard for a couple of days. But then again, if she even attempted to get him into the Legion camp he would probably swing into a rampage.

There was still a lot of pent up anger lurking in the dregs of Boone's heart, and it didn't take a genius to see it. It was just safer to leave him behind – less chance of him dying under a pile of sweaty men and more of a chance of her returning home to his sweet, sweet face.

The thought of sudden separation pierced the air, letting in a wisp of sexual tension. It left a moist feeling of 'what now?' like the universe was actually suggesting they take advantage of the over-large and under-used bed. If Annie was to die at Cottonwood Cove, she knew she would regret not commandeering his body. But there was no chance, absolutely_ no chance _that he would ever go for that.

Not after that night at the Wrangler. Because that night, other than loosening his joints and momentarily clearing the hazy horizon, tiled another layer of brick around his brain – even if she could have walked to her death the thought of running his fingers down the soft skin of her inner thigh made him sick. He ached for Carla, not a freckle-faced, gap-toothed _thing._

"Boone!" She called again and he stopped, stooped in the doorway. He turned to see her staring at him with her brow raised, mouth open ready to speak but nothing came out. She shifted from foot to foot, wringing her hands before wiping her brow. "… we leave in half an hour."

* * *

Annie left Boone at Novac in dawn's light. Veronica was piping words faster than Annie could, and the other tittered along in agreement. The warbling of the two women almost warranted a few weeks down time. Boone was excited at the idea of escaping the constant noise in the comfort of his old room—

No comfort, just guilt. His excitement was extinguished instantly at the thought.

Annie slipped a couple of hundred caps in his front pockets as she gave him a quick punch for good luck. She looked radiant in the morning sun, Boone swinging back to the idea of a warm woman with a golden halo igniting the tips of her hair. He burnt to go with Annie and explore the wasteland, like they were supposed to do _together, _but she had already laid down the law.

"Chin up, soldier boy." Her voice was muffled by tobacco lockjaw as her hand patted his cheek awkwardly - trying to show some sort of physical goodbye without making it too weird. His jaw clenched at her inappropriate contact, the smoke from her cigarette blooming tiredly between their faces. She rolled the filter between her teeth. "Veronica'll take great care of me. She promises."

"Swear it on my little ol' heart." The woman piped up from behind her, power fist covering all of her tiny chest. Annie just grinned.

He was left lazily under the dinosaur, rifle in one hand and the other clenched with a pinch of something like jealousy. There was nothing stopping him from leaving and doing his own thing, but he felt physically bound back to Novac once again.

Boone visited Cliff Briscoe to ask for his night shift back temporarily (and for free), and although Cliff was stiff about it he agreed all the same. There was no reason in knocking back the extra help. Novac life chugged on like a sailboat, the days hot and the nights freezing. He didn't dare step foot into his old apartment; breaking into Annie's instead to feel bad about himself on her unmade bed. His mind was swimming with feelings of abandonment, coming to an altering epiphany that he actually missed her. It was far too quiet, and when he made the bed in the morning he found himself missing the heated patch where her body should have been.

How pathetic, he scolded himself. Did he not remember the days of agony that grated by through the folds of her lips? Did he forget how she prodded, teased and tempted him for a month straight? The companionship was not perfect but it kept his brain level steady and on task… She was so mentally draining but the numbness was something welcomed with open arms.

She returned a week and a half later in the crosshairs of his scope. She was laughing haughtily at something Veronica had said; the wildlife skittering around at the boisterous voices that carried miles ahead. The women beat the mutants to death with their respective weapons, laughing at sad punch lines to bad jokes.

He watched Annie point at the sniper's nest, probably catching the glint of his glasses under the moon. Her hand raised and pointed before saluting him with that same grin on her face. The girl's armour was torn and Veronica's nose was bloody but they both seemed high-spirited.

Twenty minutes later, the black-haired woman was behind him in the mouth of the dinosaur. She greeted him with a friendly tap on the hip, leaning between two pegged dinosaur teeth with her flat palms. Her eyes were instantly on his, looking down into the space between his face and glasses.

"Hello handsome. Missed me?"

He snuffed at her, lowering his rifle to stand up straight and languidly nod at her. Her brows rose and she grinned, eyes returning to the flat sands in front of them. "I thought so. I knew deep down that you like me more than you put out." She drawled sarcastically, popping a smoke in her mouth. "Are you rostered on forever here or can we go whenever?"

"I should stay until morning." He spoke to her for the first time in what seemed like a lame eternity. "When's the last time you slept?" Her wide eyes were rimmed a swollen violet.

"I only woke up a couple of hours ago." She sighed at him like a child to a mother "Oh and my trip was fine, thank you very much. I punched a gecko with a power fist for the first time in my life and it was very cool." The fumes spewed out of the dinosaur's mouth like an overcrowded bar, Boone reaching for her pack of matches.

"Sounds like it was a tough mission." The drag of the match on paper fizzled as she guffawed at him.

"You wouldn't even begin to imagine." Annie turned and leant against the teeth, kicking one leg over the other to check him over with rogue eyes. The feeling made him uncomfortable, but all the while he was still glad to see her and her sticky grin that seemed way overdue.

* * *

Boone was late to the Veronica Train. Her humour fell on his deaf ears, Annie cackling all the way to the 188 but her shadowy partner simply lurked plain faced. Whether she was funny or not, Boone did not know. Annie laughed at everything and anything, including the desperate comedy ghoul who worked at the wrangler.

They left the brunette at the 188 turnoff however, Annie slapping the girl on the back and leaving a kiss on the cheek.

"You are more than welcome to come and see us at the Strip anytime. We have plenty of beds and food and bathtubs to spare." Annie nudged Boone with her elbow. He shifted awkwardly to the other foot while the younger girl beamed at them.

Watching the Strip glow through the deep purple skies, Annie felt sad. Veronica had left them a while ago, Annie and Boone slowly plodding back 'home' to their monotonous days of dressing nice and playing Hit Man. There was something so much better about the feeling of kicked up dirt and sun-dried skin – more real and less boring. She had a feeling Boone felt the same.

Holding up her hand and rapping him on the chest with the back of her hand, she stopped him.

"Wanna wander around for a while? We don't have to go back so soon…"

He looked down at her listlessly and she huffed a laugh at him.

"I'm not propositioning you, Boone, I just want to stay away from House a little longer. I don't want to go back and sleep in the air conditioning…" She kicked her boots in the sullen sand. "I haven't bathed in a week and I feel great!" Her palms were to the sky and a sly but small smile crept onto his face. "D'you want to go break into the Repconn HQ? I bet that place is rat city. I _would_ like to shoot some rats."

"Break into the Repconn HQ…" He mumbled at her. "With all those robots and all."

"I-…" Annie stopped short, reluctant to turn on her heel. "I definitely did not think about that." She cleared her throat. "But… Now we have to go so I don't think myself a coward faced with a robot problem."

"I won't tell anyone…" He trailed off at her mental dilemma. She shrugged, shucking her boots up her legs with a tug of her fingertips.

"Come on, Boone, Veronica talked so much about pre-war machinery and it made me think a lot." She tugged his shirtsleeve with her wrist at her shoulder. "She told me that there's a solar system model in there. It would be a total riot, don't you think? How small and insignificant we really are in aspect of everything?"

"Veronica knows a lot."

She waved him off, starting to walk. He caught step immediately, scoffing at her words before shoving his hands in his pockets. "You probably know a lot too, Boone, you just don't talk." She cooed, looking up at him with burnt eyes. "I'm sure there's whole books of knowledge just waiting to be cracked out of that big egg of yours."

"Well..." Just like a teenage boy talking to a pretty girl, his ears burnt in the morning air. "Thank you."


	19. Chapter 19

**This one is quite short but fun to write. I wrote it at work today inbetween customers and it flowed like nothing else. If you haven't noticed, I do enjoy writing little scenes where they're together alone. That's my favourite part in a relationship, where you can sit and talk with a person and be cool with it. **

**Hippies is Punks - Wavves. Doesn't take long to youtube that. Come on guys.**

* * *

Annie was shrieking with a shotgun in her hands, pumping the lever to take out an almost overly pleasant Mr. Handy. The bot slammed to the ground, the sounds dying in its artificial voice box with a slow growl. Handing the gun back to Boone (she had snatched it from his hands seconds earlier at the sight of the robot), she prodded it with a ginger foot before falling to her knees beside it.

"That could be considered overkill." Boone mumbled at her as she raided the buzzing monster. Her eyes were bright with fear as she warily snapped a keycard out of his metal pincers, eyes watering from the smoke fizzing from the miniature holes left by buckshot.

"It definitely was ready to attack." She huffed, tucking the keycard into a pocket on her armor. "I could see the rage in its eye." Staggering up, Annie let out a deep sigh of relief and rolled her shoulders. She floated over to the Sunset Sarsaparilla machine, kicking two clunky bottles free before popping the top off. "A toast to me, for saving your life."

"It said something about wanting to give us a tour of the factory..." He trailed off as Annie pitched a bottle his way. He caught it with one hand, cracking the top and looking blankly at the blue star cap.

"Never the less," she toddled over and clinked her bottle with his, smiling up at him cheekily "I just killed my first robot. Not that you can kill a robot, considering it wasn't really alive in the first place..." She got a funny look on her face. "Ugh... Creepy."

They wandered round for a few minutes, Annie staring wide-eyed up at the different types of bots as Boone secured the perimeter. They had fallen back into the old groove of Boone playing security guard while Annie breezed around without a care. It was comfortable that way – she knew he would always look after her and she didn't need verbal conformation for that.

The fact that he had stayed in Novac all week had confirmed it; Boone was not going to risk her disappearing on him, so he stayed where he knew _she knew _where he was. He was just as attached to her as she was to him – although he would never really say that to her. After all, she would probably just tease him about it if he did.

Pressing through the door to the solar system, the breath was sucked out of Annie's lungs. Boone stood morbidly behind her, even though he had never seen anything like it before. As a kid, his grandparents had told him of the old Repconn centres, but he had never really imagined them to be anything like their words.

"Aren't you glad you came with me now?" She ducked under the railings onto the spiral floor, setting up camp in the center of the circle. Her head rested on her back, staring happily up at the solar system with her dinner plate eyes, Boone watching on like a worried mother with folded arms. "Can we stay for a while? I have some food left over from the trip..."

He hesitated for a moment, not too sure how Annie would react if another robot happened to wander innocently past, but gave in all the same. It had been a while since he had seen the girl, and a little part of him wanted to grill her of all the things that had happened since they had been apart.

Sitting cross-legged beside her, Boone took a sip of his drink and stared at her from beneath his tinted glasses.

"So where'd you go?"

"I love that you're so subtle." She sniffed at him, bending her neck to stare right back. "I will tell you under the rules that you will not get mad or upset."

He gave her a flat look making her grin burst from between her lips.

"Well, since you _promised... _House needed me to go to that big Legion camp... Cottonwood Cove, it's called. Needed to go do some secret House business with his robots..." She trailed off with the look on his face. What scared Annie the most is that it did not change. Any person with a personal vendetta would have snapped her neck for not including them in her travels, and with the size of Boone's palms he could have done it one-handed... But he sat there and awkwardly chewed on the bottle's rim.

"Okay."

"I'm sorry," she rubbed her neck subconsciously "you know I couldn't risk it. Not that I don't trust you! It's just that if we went together and they found out who you were they would _destroy_ you... And—yeah, I'm not too comfortable with that idea." She picked at the curling leather of her boots. "Besides, I just walked right in by myself. Some man slipped me a medallion one day on The Strip and apparently it's like an all-access pass to Caesar."

"When did that happen?" He asked, taking the pack from beside Annie to pull out some agave fruit.

"One morning when you were busy sulking in our bedroom." She clicked her fingers, trying to remember. "I think it was a couple of days after I killed Benny... Caught me right outside the 38." She caught his stare and rolled her eyes. "Sorry I didn't tell you that, I just... you know..."

He shifted his feet. "Did you see Caesar?"

"I did, and he's not as scary as I thought he'd be. Quite charming, actually." She stole some fruit from his lap, tearing into it hungrily. "The strange thing is is that he trusted me... A lot of faith in a stranger for a man with all the power."

Boone stayed silent for a while, contemplating things while Annie looked up at the rotating planets. The light from the sun was bathing them in a smooth yellow glow, softening the edges of their faces and turning it into a mellow mood.

"What would you say," Annie changed the subject, tapping him on the knee with the palm of her hand "if Veronica moved into the Lucky 38 with us. She's squatting at the 188 right now and I mean, she's a young girl who needs to bathe..."

He looked up, rubbing the marks on the bridge of his nose left by his glasses.

"I don't care." He sipped his drink, his fingers slipping with condensation.

"That's great. She's got her own things to do, so it's not like she'll be tagging along with us all the time. I know you'd like to keep me to yourself." She winked at him, his face falling deadpan. She grinned, slapping his knee once again before throwing herself onto her back. "I wish I had glasses right now, because I bet this thing is even prettier when it's not blurry."

"We'll look into that when we pass through Freeside." The fruit in his mouth was slightly soft, a couple of days old and warm from sitting in her backpack. He didn't mind though - food was food - and any food was better than canned beans or cram. Annie was back to staring up at the sky, the stars reflecting in her brown eyes like little flecks of something special. It was like she had never really looked at the night sky before - a childlike wonder floating around her head like a cloud.

"Do you reckon that Benny did all these things for House before us? Because this is hard work - and I can't really imagine someone like him trekking it through the desert in a suit like that..." She blinked herself quiet, a sour look planting itself on her face. "Well, I suppose he's done it before. Heh." She rubbed her stomach, the scar itching prematurely. "You know what? We never did take a look inside his suite. I'm sure Swank hasn't even touched the thing, the sad little man. Something about tribals and their superstitions..."

"You said he was a nice guy." Boone muttered, sipping his drink with a clink of his teeth.

"Huh? Oh I probably did. Post-sex jitters, maybe?" She ribbed him, watching his eyes slink away to the roof. "Something about a man in a suit doesn't sit right with me after I stabbed one to death a few weeks back." Annie pouted her lips at him and he let his brow quirk, blue eyes searching the stars for some sort of comfortable silence. He didn't like the way the conversation was going. "Can't trust a man in a suit. That's why I like you so much."

He nodded, watching her flat palm slap the glass floor below them. The gesture went unnoticed and she grinned at her lap, lying back down to stretch out. A week of walking and camping in sand pits had done a number on her feet. Her pipboy stuttered a tune lightly, the noise echoing off the walls eerily.

Boone sat sleepily beside her, having been awake all night. He was looking forward to getting home to have a quick nap in their bed - the soft pillows and warm blankets with the hum of an air conditioner - complete silence as Annie bathed a few doors down... He must have been tired if he was thinking so fondly of down-feathers. He could have laid back and taken a rest under the universe but she was there instead. And that would have been too much for him. Instead he dreamt of Novac.

It was a breath of fresh air to be free of that place once again. A week there had let him realize how he much he resented the town - the town where his wife once lived her very unfulfilled life - and it was his fault. He didn't want to go back and remind himself of his desolate failures, but once again Annie was the very heavy anchor that tugged his nose underwater.

"There's room here for two, you know…" She said softly, eyes trailing over him quietly before biting her lip. There was a rush of tension in the room once again and the hair on the back of his neck stood to attention. The look he gave her would have withered a cactus, and she shrugged. "A girl can try."


	20. Chapter 20

**It's been one of those days where you curl up in bed and feel terrible because Mother Nature is a mean old woman.**

**I wrote this to 'Little Talk' by Of Monsters and Men, which you probably have heard before because everyone has heard this song. If you have not heard this song, then I'm going to assume you've been living under a rock for the past couple of months. **

**And I would really love to hear from you guys in the comment section. I am averaging a generous number for each chapter, and yet I'm only hearing from two people. I am ****_completely sure _****that I don't re-read my chapters to such an extent - all of you ghost readers should swing me a comment and tell me how I am going lately!**

* * *

Annie returned from the Tops later than expected that night. Boone was asleep in their bed, pillows strewn from face to floor. It appeared he had fallen head first into the mattress, though his abandoned beret told the courier that it was premeditated.

The sounds of the Strip echoed up from the ground beneath them; screams of laughter blending perfectly with the chuck and splat vomiting that burst from the poor privates' throats. Annie had already had two propositions by the time she had reached the first gate – politely rejecting the drunken men with a cute smile and a 'maybe when you're my type, soldier'.

Slinking into bed beside him, Annie lay on her back. It had been a while since she had walked in high-heels, her feet flattened from days of combat boots and desert sand. Slipping off the t-bar shoes with the butt of her heels, she turned her head to the resting man. He looked pleasant, almost happy to be sleeping for once in his life.

The courier raised her legs to undo the garters, the elastic clips retreating back to her hips with a _snap. _Boone shifted beside her, his eyes slitting open slightly. He stirred, fingers twitching in his palms as he rolled onto his side to face her.

"Can't sleep?" He asked louder than his voice usually pushed, the room dark enough to hide his still-sleeping form from her wide eyes.

"No, just coming to bed now." She sighed at him, rolling the stockings up her legs to her ankles before slipping them off to the ground beside her. Annie sat up groggily, stretching her back and groaning slightly at the ache that stung up her spine like a night stalker bite. "Go back to sleep."

"You'll feel better after _you _go to sleep." His voice was dull and slurred but pure, sending a warm blossom back up from her loins to her brain. His hand swung up to grab hers, urging her softly back to the mattress to lie beside him. The gesture made her purse her lips, staring intently at the black ceiling with nothing to gain. Having made body contact for the first time in a while was very strange – especially in a personal place like bed.

The feeling of his warm palm was electric, her fingers tightening in the sheets to make sure her hands wouldn't start to shake. It felt wrong, knowing that he was sleeping and probably delirious in dreamland. If he was to wake and find her taking advantage of his unconscious form… the thought was shudder worthy.

"I'll be okay, just go back to sleep." She pried her arm from his soft grip, placing it back on the mattress between them. But she still lay there, breath heavy at the goosebumps blooming from the now cold skin where his fingers had been previously resting.

"Huh." He rolled back over onto his back, not registering a word they had spoken. "Is it the baby keeping you awake again?"

Annie sat back up.

"The what?" Her voice pitched a high note, her eyes snapping incredulously to his now suddenly awoken form. The silence between them buzzed resentfully, Annie's already dark mood turning a putrid muck of irritation as she boiled unhappily about the mistaken identity.

The last thing she really needed was Boone springing a mental leak – really if he had a screw loose it was far too dangerous to take him out into the wastes...

She was just making excuses, really only disappointed she felt let down that he had seen her as his wife. She had forgotten that the woman had existed for a while, harbouring some sort of naïve hope that he had somehow moved on and was ready to take a chance with her.

"I'm not your fucking wife, Boone." Annie snapped quietly, unzipping the dress haughtily throwing herself back beside him. She rolled to face her back to him to show him she was not happy, feeling a twinge of shame for not being as understanding as she could have. Still, her ego had been bruised.

She felt his weight shift away, a pair of feet hitting the carpeted floor. He simply padded out of the room, disappearing for the night to leave her alone in the bed that seemed far too big for her alone.

The morning after Annie found him in the dining room, sitting at the head of the table in the blind corner. She sat down across from him, wrapped up in a silk robe she had found in one of the cupboards. Her hands placed themselves in front of his, snaking around one of them in an attempt at comfort.

The whole night her stomach had panged with guilt about her snap, fervently daydreaming of a universe where she could inch beside him in the strange bed and apologise for being a brat.

"I'm sorry." She patted his hand softly, retreating to fold them in her lap as she leant back in the chair. "Can we go to the Wrangler today? I need to talk to Francine."

He stared at her, dead-eyed through his sunglasses with not a look of sympathy in his eyes. He was back to the original Boone that she had first met – tense shouldered and lock jawed. Annie felt a swoop of pain in her stomach, eyes flickering with hurt that he probably registered but didn't respond to.

"Please?" She had grown so used to his light nature; showing her how a simple man could pull himself back onto his feet for a while without the necessary burn for a bloody revenge. "Boone, please. I want to go home for a while." Now he was back to the smouldering mass that radiated a negative energy to whoever was in his proximity. "Ten minutes," she stood after a while of silence, greeted with a wash of slight annoyance watered down with a splash of self-reproach. "ten minutes and I want you in that elevator."

* * *

The door of their old bedroom shut quietly behind her hands, her fingers switching the lock into place before leaning back on the hard wood. Placing their backpack down at the foot of the bed, Annie stalked to her side of the bed and sat gingerly in wait.

She watched the man change his weight to one foot, eyes welding into hers with a fierce fire. Her look fought valiantly and won, steering him to the desk chair that had collected a fine layer of dust. He sat unhappily, curling his hands in his lap like an angered old man.

Her heart was beating at the words stuck on her tongue, not too sure where the conversation would lead to and afraid of the possible outcomes. If she made him uncomfortable in the slightest she knew he would pack up and leave. Carla was a touchy subject for him – which was completely understandable. Having your wife and unborn child sold to the Legion was bad enough without having your companion sneer about it in the middle of the night because she was in a bad mood.

"I think it's time you told me about your wife." The words spilled out of her mouth like a string of drool, sinking into the thick air like water to a sponge. The man stared at her for a moment, eyes flicking before suddenly sighing.

"I don't see how this helps." He told her, his voice gravelly and stern. "She's dead."

"Did you know that you know just as much about me than I do?" She pushed. "I… I understand that you don't want to tell me, but c'mon… You can't bury the poor woman without a tomb stone."

He visibly flinched at the thought, Annie biting her tongue at the bad analogy.

"What I'm saying is… Boone… You can't hold onto your secrets forever. The more we know about each other, the more effective we will be as a team. It's a very unrequited relationship, isn't it?"

"I wouldn't say that." His voice deepened in thought. His eyes skimmed up to meet hers, the coals still simmering in her brown eyes. She had won once again and he sighed. "Alright…

"She… I tracked her down. Southeast, near the river…-"

"Cottonwood?" Annie asked quietly. His neck skipped in a nod.

"They were selling her. Saw it through my scope." Annie watched him speak with her fingers in her mouth. "Whole place was swarming with Legion. Hundreds of them. Bidding for things no man has right to. I just had my rifle with me. Just me, against all of them, so…" He sighed, taking off his glasses to fold them in his palm, rubbing the bridge of his nose as a sign of internal defeat. "I took the shot."

It took Annie a while to realise what he had said. The thought ran process in her brain as he leant back and folded his arms, watching and waiting for the conversation to sink in.

"Oh." It clicked. "Oh…" Her stomach dropped at the thought, her brain churning out suggestions as to what to say next. It came out jumbled though, Annie apparently not having the capacity to sympathise comfortably. "Better you got to do-… other than those assholes- at least there's comfort in knowing-…" she trailed off, eyes bursting with pity. "Better her to die than to live a Legion slave."

"Yeah. What they do to women… That's worse than death. There was no choice in what I did." His hands gestured tiredly in his lap, elbows on his thighs in an attempt to support. "It was more like… being forced to watch something you can't stop."

"You did the right thing."

"All this was only ever going to play out one way. It still is. I don't have any say. All I can do is wait for it to be done with me."

"You make it sound like her death was inevitable." Annie tsk'd at him, leaning forward to catch his eye.

"It was gonna be something. If I hadn't met Carla, it would have been something else. I should've never gotten close to her."

"Whether you like it or not, Boone, you're allowed to be happy too." She rolled her eyes at him, mood lightened by his usual pessimism. He stayed stoic though, thumbing the arms of the glasses before clicking his teeth.

"I've got bad things coming to me." He caught her stare one last time, his gaze sweeping over her face with tired eyes. "You'd better keep your distance too."

She scoffed at him suddenly, the wind from her mouth taking him by a soft shock. Annie jumped up and popped over to him, bending at the waist to be his height for a moment.

"Like hell." She grinned, the gap between her two middle teeth bringing him back to his sudden reality of baby sitter. "You're stuck with me for a long while, sweetheart." She reached out to touch his face but stopped at the last moment – hand lingering in the air before she straightened out awkwardly. Patting her dress down, she returned to the bed to fetch a bottle of scotch from their pack. "I'm going to have a drink. Want one?"

"Sure."

"Francine would be so mad if she knew I bought in alcohol from the outside." She sniggered to herself, taking two glasses from the bedside table – wiping them clean with the hem of her dress. "And Boone, you need to understand that whatever you've done you don't deserve to live a life of suffering. Unless you somehow singlehandedly managed to massacre a whole tribe of undeserving bystanders, you should be fine."

His eyes darted to hers; her stare content and soft like it had been a lot lately. In that moment he knew he was destined to die alone – even if her body language told him she had just made a simple joke… she did not know the truth, and there was no way that he could tell her about it just yet.

"Or say if you tracked a courier across a desert and shot her in the head for a stupid fucking poker chip… _OR _maybe if you were a Legion, underneath all those clothes could be a leather skirt and feathers…" Annie grinned at him, offering him his glass. He watched her try and lighten the mood, her hand patting the bed beside her.

He stood and sat next to her, her hand resting on his knee comfortably when he sunk into the mattress.

"You've saved my life a million times _and_ you think that your end will be long and painful… I think your karma is through the roof." She patted it gently, staring at the door from the bottom of her glass. "And in case you haven't noticed, you're really all I have." She said awkwardly but stained with truth, trying to avoid eye contact to the point of her body vibrating with fear of rejection.

She drained the scotch quickly only to pour herself another one right after.

"I think you're a decent man, Boone. It's not cool that you think otherwise." She looked at him directly, the air between them fizzing with electricity. The red string that had tied them together was the shortest it had ever been - left with a broken man and a forgotten girl in a cloud of sharp pasts and uncertain futures.

Annie was the first to look away, Boone almost reeling back from the rush of feelings swelling in his chest from her closeness. He hadn't felt such a buzz since Carla – which was sickeningly sardonic due to their previous topic of conversation. He hated the feeling, forcing it back down into the cellar of his mind where all his other problems went.

He had just told her to stay away, but with that motion he had lit the own match of his affection – and it burnt brighter than anything he had seen in a while - a lighting salvation in the distance.

"I heard some news last night." She started, changing the topic and shot her drink once again. "I had to come here to tell you because I know the old man has the place wired. But I went to Benny's suite last night, and I was right about it. They'd moved the body but nothing had been changed. My shawl was still wrapped around the back of the chair I was sitting in." She blinked off, thinking back to the fateful night before pulling a face.

Boone stayed quiet, soaking up her voice with faithful ears.

"I went to go to the bathroom to, you know, check things out and I found a… I found a robot in there. One of those securitron things, but it had this really creepy look on its face. Far too happy to be a robot, but you know how technology is…" She drabbled on, clinking the bottle to the lip of the glass nervously. The story didn't seem to sit well with her. "It told me that I could take Vegas for myself."

Boone took the bottle from between her fingers, watching as she rapped her nails fretfully against the glass.

"All I have to do is kill House, and it's mine." She turned her neck to stare up at him, eyes wide with exhilarating fear. "Ours. No more dirty work for us, we pick the jobs. We'll have the whole Mojave in our hands… Isn't that completely terrifying?"

Grasping the thought in his mind, Boone sipped his drink with no words, forcing out a short 'hmph' that could probably be considered a laugh.

"Did you know House has a whole robot army?" Annie whispered at him, hiding behind her drink and hands timidly "Not just what you see here at the Strip, but a whole factory of them under that Legion camp… Caesar doesn't know about them either… And if House is out of the way, we'd have this unstoppable army – that's why I took so long with the old man yesterday, because he was showing me the new software upgrade… they have rocket launchers now."

"You say 'we'-…" He stopped, turning his head to stare at her again. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for a continuation but receiving nothing.

"Because half is rightfully yours. You've been with me the whole time, done most of the work for less reception."

"I don't want it." He spoke, resting his glass on his knee.

"But I don't want to do it all by myself…" She moaned, pleading with him with a battle of the eyes. He looked away, feeling better about his situation. No matter how he looked at it, Annie always needed extra help with everything she did. There was no chance that she would back away and head his words – because he was stuck with her.

He stared into his glass, tracing the rim with a deserted finger while the girl beside him rested her hand on his knee once again. She downed her drink, full of liquid confidence for the first time in a while – maybe for the first time ever. It took her a while to get Boone comfortable, and the thought of that made her nervy. There was no way she was going to embarrass herself in front of the man who just poured his heart out (sort of) to her. The alcohol, specially packed for that occasion, took away the foreign feeling of nervousness and dimmed her heart into one of understanding and needs. As much as she wanted pat him on the back, there was still that burn in her body that needed to be soothed… but fortunately, her goal of staying level-headed won out over all the other feelings fighting in her chest.

Boone, however, felt wrong. On one hand he felt slightly better about talking about Carla. The woman had been locked up in his mind for so long he had forgotten to let her out for a break. And that woman was the reason that his mood hit the wall - it could go no further than the idea that he was a bad person. Carla was the victim in his implicit life, taking the fall for something he had done himself. And for that, he deserved to die.

And even though welcomed death every second of the day, there was a voice in the back of his head telling him that maybe he should prolong it just for a little while – just until Annie knew how to take care of herself better. Just because he had to die a slow, painful and well-deserved death didn't mean she had to either – and after all the things he had done it was the least he could do to even start to make amends.


	21. Chapter 21

**Happy New Years, ladies! I got really drunk last night and don't remember anything, so good on me. I highly suggest not drinking a bottle and a half of straight vodka to yourself because that shit is potent. (Don't drink your feelings, its a bad idea)**

**Also, as it turns out, Boone's dad is Chris de Burgh **

**This is a long one too, thank god for that. The 'Bombastic Annie arc' is going to be a couple of chapters and hopefully it won't bore you to death. Annie's a bit of a handful, isn't she? This is the strategy I (and probably all of you too) took in the game. Terrible plan. I think Niner and Rex actually hated me. **

**EDIT: I also went back and rewrote a lot of things from chapters 1 to 10! Not massive things, just minor details I wasn't happy with.**

* * *

They headed to Nellis the day after, Annie waking up with a splitting headache from all the scotch she had ingested the night before. Boone was perkier that morning, even if a little at all. He was glad to get back on the dirt road again, heading towards the strange Boomers who lived in an old air force base. The sun was bright and warm on their backs, tanning the courier's leather and sweating the sniper's skin.

"There's no chance that you somehow keep a spare pair of sunglasses…" Annie whined, holding her flat palm to umbrella her eyebrows. Boone snuffed at her, causing another demented groan to float through the dry heat. "Why did you let me drink so much?"

"You're the boss." He shrugged at her, enjoying her temporary pain.

"I'm only the boss when you don't want to be." She hissed at him, making his lips twitch into a miniscule smile. He dug around in his pack for his spare set, handing them to the courier before she (in her own words) 'gave up and just died'. "Thank you." She pulled them past her ears, sighing at the sudden light shift.

They had stayed up late the previous night, lying together on the old Wrangler bed while Annie told him everything she possibly could about a free Vegas. He wasn't too happy that she seemed to want to go independent, but understood her point when she hiccupped her way past what the NCR would probably do to any unhappy tribes. There was no way in hell that he would help her overthrow the NCR, but he would support her decision as much as he could. It was the least he could do.

It wasn't as if Annie didn't like the NCR, in fact she much preferred them to the Legion. There were only two main factions she could hand the reigns to, and unless the Enclave or Brotherhood renewed themselves suddenly, that's all there really was to it. It was either Annie's uncertain hand or the NCR's boisterous shove… Annie actually had more confidence in herself, which sounded ridiculous.

Boone stopped her a mile short of a man standing in the middle of the road, warily pulling out his rifle so he could scope out the situation. He didn't seem armed, actually holding a pencil and a pad of paper – scribbling down things hurriedly while pacing back and forth.

"Hey!" Annie called, Boone jumping slightly at her sudden voice. The man swung back down to look at them incredulously. "Hey! What are you doing up there?"

"You better head back the other way or you'll get blown up like the rest of the idiots trying to walk into Boomer territory!" He called back, Annie taking this as an invitation to walk forward. She was not in the mood for a smart-mouthed asshole trying to turn her away on her own mission.

She marched right up to him and stood in his face.

"I am not an idiot."

Boone couldn't disagree more, slinking up behind her to keep a wary eye on the older man. George, the man in the cap, grinned down at her.

"Okay little miss, now that I've got your attention, might you be interested in a little information? It'll cost you, but it's well worth the investment."

The girl blinked at him, rattling her pockets for caps before sniffing at the old man in anger. Hangovers did not do her justice in the least.

"Well, you can tell me… Or you can tell the underside of my boot."

George was taken aback by her lack of charm, reeling his shoulders back to hold his hands up in surrender.

"Whoa, simmer down. I'll tell you." Annie smiled, looking up at Boone proudly while the man flipped through the pages of his book. The sniper had to give her some appreciation for the way she forced the information out of the old man like guts out of road kill. "I'm a gambler and a scavenger. I've made some cash from gambling and from… reclaiming goods that are no longer being used. Now do you want my help or not?"

"Depends what it is." The woman folded her arms, back straightened by the heavy sledge strapped to her back.

"Oh, lordy lordy, haven't you heard of the Boomers? What rock have you been living under?" His brow quirked as Annie pulled a cigarette from behind her ear, watching her light it with Benny's old zippo. "They're a bunch of artillery-slingin', grenade lobbin' odd jobs camping out in Nellis. Wander into their territory and you're as good as mincemeat."

"… well." Annie turned to Boone, ushering him to the side as she sucked down a cigarette. "This changes things. If they're going to be hostile than this won't be as easy as I thought it would."

"Don't you know anything about the Boomers?" He questioned, having learnt this long ago. The Boomers were ruthless with any poor soul that wandered too close to them. He had been thinking of a strategy the moment the words had fallen from Annie's mouth the previous night. Nothing had come to him, other than sending gift baskets strapped to robots. There was literally no other way - not without doing a bit of recon before hand - and Annie wasn't into that, much preferring to fall head first into things. _It's so much more exciting this way, don't you think? _Annie often trilled when Boone got worried.

"Well, House did tell me a few things but I wasn't too sure if I should trust him or not." George was watching them curiously, a few steps away. She shuffled on her feet, looking forward to the warning signs that stuck unhealthily in the Nevada sands. "Probably should trust House's intel though… Do you think I could climb up that rock and take a quick look?"

"With your eyesight that sounds like a great plan."

"Cut the sarcasm, asshole." She scoffed at him, heading towards the rock face. Sticking her foot into one of the crevices, she hoisted herself up until she could just peek her nose over the top. From what she could gather, there was a chain link fence guarding what seemed to be a small town thriving in an abandoned army base. Her partner was already fasted to the rock wall, peeking around the side to take a quick sweep over the situation. It seemed dire in the least.

"Now, see, I don't think that's a good idea-" George drawled, Boone cringing internally at Annie's lack of self-preservation. A shot sounded from the distance and Annie jumped back down, the string of smoke tunnelling towards their general direction. The shell hit 100 metres away, throwing up sand and rocks and lighting the air with a loud, sickening explosion. "That was a warning shot."

Annie was rattled, clinging to the rock with the blood draining from her cheeks. This was going to definitely be harder than she had expected. The sound from the shell had turned her hangover into a splitting headache, ears buzzing with white noise. Boone looked at her expectantly.

"… Is there anyway to get past this… problem?" She turned back to the black man, feeling bad for attempting to bully him even though he had fairly warned her in advance.

"There is a way, and I'll tell you… for a little wager?"

She groaned. "How much?"

"Think of it as a bet, not a payment." He put his hands on his hips, standing over the two of them with a higher sense of authority. "Three hundred caps, and if you make it alive I'll double your money."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Annie moaned as she gestured for the coin purse shoved in the bottom of Boone's bag. "Three hundred… Three hundred caps for my life." She laughed to herself before rubbing her palm on her aching temples. "You've got yourself a bet, old man."

"Anna…" Boone chimed behind her and she waved him off, taking the purse from his hands.

"I'm the boss, remember?" She shot at him over her shoulder, turning back to the man. "You wait here with him to make sure he doesn't run off with our caps. I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Remember when you told me to stop you from making bad decisions?" He asked, taking the purse back once she had nearly emptied it into the dark man's hands.

"I think the question here is, Boone, why not? We can't exactly snipe them if we want to make friends, can we?"

"Possibly."

"I've already given him the caps, it would be a waste of money not to try his idea…"

"It would also be a waste of money if it got you killed." Point.

She shot him a dark look, much preferring death by explosion than a day of Mother Boone's story time whilst hung over "Maybe a wager will keep me running through til the end – keep me motivated. I won't leave you a penniless widow, Boone." She sniped, agitated that he decided to assert his authority now of all times. "I can run, I know that. They've got a big heavy gun that's hard to aim with my agility. I'm little so I can fit and hide behind things, and I can climb fast if it's needed. So cool down, sport, I think this can work."

The sniper sighed, giving up on trying. This was it – this was the day Annie died. He couldn't go in after her and pull her out kicking and screaming, because that would kill them both. Then again…

"Alright." The man handed Annie a note torn from his book, the paper worn and well-thumbed. "Here you go. That page has the details, but it's all in the timing as you move from building to building." The girl opened the page, skimming over its contents before handing it to her partner. He read over it tiredly, passing it back when done with a nod signalling it was legit. "I'll be here watching, so I'll know if you've made it to the gate or not."

Annie rubbed her face, shaking her arms like noodles to try and get pumped up. Nothing was working and she felt sluggish and gross, although not tempted to walk all the way back to the casino for a sleep. It was now or never, and she had already given up a majority of their travel caps.

"My father used to say something… Don't pay the ferryman until he gets you to the other side…" Boone said quietly as she stretched her back, touching her toes to limber up.

"Well~," Annie looked up at him, eyes ablaze with sudden adrenalin. Her body had finally realised that she was getting ready for something big, sending waves of morphine and energy from head to toe. "it's a little late for that now. Unless you want to beat the shit out of him and take all of his caps regardless."

The old man in front of them paled, making Annie grin widely. Taking one last look at her partner, she patted him on the cheek lovingly before sneaking up to the rock face once more.

"So you're just going to run?" Boone called again as she pressed herself against the rock, reading over the note with hazy eyes. She looked up at him, waving her hand dismissively to quietly ask him to pipe down.

"It will be fine." She told him, chucking him her pack and sledge (which bounced merrily with shockwaves) before flattening her back against the rock wall. "I have a really good feeling about this." She watched his face twitch and she grinned. "Trust the boss, Boone."

And then she sprinted, shrieking when she heard the boom of the howitzer fire. Her boots slipped in the dust, heart jumping into her mouth and spilling out the cracks of her lips. The boom of the first rocket hit close to her, sending a wave of dust and rocks her way. They pelted against her armor as she ducked into a lip in the hill, the ground shaking under her feet as the shells fell around her. She slid down to a crouch, trying to avoid even the slightest amount of shown skin.

_Three, four, five, six... Reload_

The ground shifted under her feet and she stumbled, falling to her side to catch her shoulder on a jagged piece of debris. The pain was exhilarating, but she had missed her cue, the explosions now ricocheting against the cliff face she was hiding beneath. She had never felt her heart race so fast.

_Four, five , six... Reload_

Breaking into a sprint again, she hurdled over the remnants of old buildings and the dead body of a Brotherhood Paladin. She would have stopped to check it out but the bombs were back, nearly catching her feet as she belted towards the chain link fence.

"Should of-" Another explosion burst a few meters away "listened to Boone!" She called to no one in particular, lunging out of the way of a burst of energy. The impact threw her off of her feet, rolling her onto her side as her hearing burnt into static and her eyesight faltered. Boone's extra glasses crushed with Annie's impact with the ground, pressing broken glass and bent metal into her face.

They had stopped to reload when she staggered back up, her boots slipping on the chunks of gravel and cement that had been thrown around with her. "Don't shoot!" She called, stumbling all the way to the chain link fence - her ankle screaming in pain while her shoulder cried along in sympathy. "Don't shoot or you'll kill yourselves!"

"Hold it right there!" Annie slammed against the fence before letting out a whine of exhilaration. "Don't you dare move!" The boomer with the big gun apprehended her, the large barrel staring her in the face. Her body was shaking with so much adrenalin, barely feeling the pain that was swelling in her right shoulder. "How the hell did you survive that bombardment?" The man asked, his helmet falling askew on his serious-looking head.

"Now–" Annie hunched over to catch her breath, curling her hands in the fence to hold a finger to him "I didn't fucking run all the way through the artillery to have you grill me. I'm here to see whoever is in charge." She stood straight, pushing her sweaty hair off of her forehead and rolling her shoulders - a large crack reverberating from her injured arm. "Jesus, that hurts."

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to run straight at a howitzer, but then again she wasn't dead, had successfully proved Boone wrong _and_ had won an extra 300 caps in three minutes. It was either sheer luck or sheer stupidity on her part, maybe both.

Boone had set up camp at the lip of the rock, red beret off and tucked into his pocket to keep the visibility low. His eye fell from the scope, pulling up onto his knees to let his heart rejoice. She hadn't, for some reason, died. It was a feat in itself to even get as far as the first dip, but she had done it. She had actually lived (although she nearly lost a foot a few times) and was walking back to him to tell the tale.

"Boone!" Annie's voice burst from down the hill. It was faint, but he still heard it over the rushing wind. "Boone! Get the money off of that slippery gypsy and get your ass down here. I'm not walking back up that hill." She was louder now, Boone peeking his head around the rock to see her form a few yards away. It was the happiest (just bordering content) he had been in a few months... not that he let it show.

"You know, she's the first person to make it through without dying? I've never seen a thing like her before." The old man shook Boone's hand, handing over his coin purse to him before the sniper hiked both packs onto his shoulders, briskly walking to meet the girl. "And she ran for it too-" George was still calling to him. "you should be proud to have tamed yourself a little reckless lass-" Annie sledge was heavy in his hands but the moment they met in the middle of the path he dropped it at her feet.

Annie gave him a corked arm the moment she saw him, grinning ear-to-ear with her hair styled by a cyclone. She had blood running down her temples and under her neck, her shoulder a little out of place but technically not too bad. She literally looked like she had crawled out of hell, the wild, fiery look in her eyes reminding Boone why he liked her so much in the first place. The look was no longer one of pure evil, but one of excitement. He understood that now.

"Look at me now, Boone!" She threw her good arm around his shoulder, her heart still thundering like a drum. "I told you I had a good feeling about this. Did you get the money?"

"Yes." She pulled her pack from his back, wincing at the weight but taking it all the same. Boone handed her the cap purse, allowing the girl to sift through the bag before taking it back off of her a moment later.

"Good, great! Now the chieftain wants to see us, but I figured I'd better come and get you first." She began to limp back to the base on her twisted ankle, thankful for her boots stable sides. "This is the most fun I have had in a long time." She told him as he helped her through the gates, refusing to let her walk on her sore leg. The cuts on her forehead dripped dry, the boomers watching the two outsiders like vultures on a summer's day. "Remind me why we spend most of our lives in a hotel room?"

"You tell me, boss." He sniffed at her, making her laugh quietly as the rush darkened down inside of her. The pain shooting up from her ankle was stinging and the nicks on her face were biting, her energy zapping as the realization of a hangover and a massive beat down sunk in. Boone's extra sunglasses crushed under his feet as he walked, already destroyed and not worth the effort of fixing. They hadn't lasted long with her.

The sun bit them like a raging dog, the rays heating their cheeks and burning their hands. It was a particularly hot day in the Mojave, made even worse by the abandoned fires dancing all around them. Annie was picking broken glass from her cheeks, aching for a medic but too stubborn to show Boone that he was right. He was always right, as it seemed, but Annie always made it through sheerly based on luck. She had been shot in the head once, too, but nobody would have expected her to claw her way back to fighting fit within a matter of weeks.

Their partnership sat on a set of scales and Annie was finally eye level.


	22. Chapter 22

**Sorry this took so long! This part has been written for ages but I just didn't like it. Oh well. If you're keen on my writing, I have another story up on my profile :) **

* * *

Annie had escaped death with a popped shoulder, a sprained ankle and a few deep cuts on her face. Other than a bit of gravel rash from her fall, she was right to walk around as soon as the doctor had looked at her. He made comments about her grungy look the entire time, but she scoffed at him under her breath all the same. Assholes were not to be given so much slack, but then again not every asshole was armed to the teeth with missiles.

They ate lunch in Pearl's barracks, talking to the old woman about the history and pride of the Boomers, slightly taking offense to the whole 'savage' situation but letting it slip. Annie didn't blame them, considering she had arrived looking like a bat out of hell on a bad day, possibly mentally scarring the few decent soldiers by the fence.

But the ex-vault dwellers seemed to be okay, other than their lack of conversational tact and awkward stares.

They allowed her to clean up and change in their barracks, which gave Annie a chance for a new outfit and a brush of the hair. Hopefully they wouldn't see her as such a beast after they saw she wasn't a mangy mutt with a very strict looking owner.

Boone was sitting on the steps of the female barracks; waiting for Annie to return so they could check out the scene. Pearl had mentioned something about gaining the Boomer's trust, so it was going to be another game of 'Do Stupid Things for Stupid Reasons'. Another one of _those _missions – Annie's favourite.

Gaining a few giggles and eyes from a few of the younger tribal girls, the man awkwardly cleaned his gun while they sat around and watched. It was very productive of them; he had to admit, trying his best to ignore their coos of attention.

"What's your name?" One of them asked, staring up at the handsome man with butterfly eyes. He sat silently for a moment, trying not to let the blood seep to his cheeks at the thought of a much younger girl (or really a whole group of them) hitting on him.

"Craig." He spoke, and they all twittered at once. It was the first time they had laid their eyes on some fresh meat, and it didn't hurt at all that Boone was not that hard to look at. The older man just felt weird.

The door opened behind him and the girls scattered, giggling off in all different directions at the look on Annie's face. Turning to look behind him he found the courier, looking fresh and clean for the second time that day. She placed her hand on his shoulder to steady herself, crouching to jump off the stairs only to straighten in front of him.

She was back in her charming merc gear, her armour being repaired by the town's seamstress.

"Making some friends?" Annie asked, grinning. She had even taken some time to do her make up lightly, trying to impress the rigid tribals with a bit of civility. Boone didn't answer, standing to full height beside her as she flicked through her pipboy. "So we'll have a look around, go ask some people if they need any help… You know, the works. Then we'll get to it."

"Thrilling plan."

"You are _the worst _lately." She laughed at him. "It's been a good day – cheer up! I'm not dead, you're not dead, we're all healthy and look at where we are!"

He gave her a sour look as they departed, the girls he met earlier swooping in from different occasions to introduce themselves to Annie. The courier was very happy with the attention, asking the teens where they could find themselves some work. They were pointed in the direction of the large hangar, seemingly miles away from the main point of town.

"_Bye_ _Craig_~" They waved him goodbye as they walked, the courier looking up at the angsty man with a cheeky smile.

"They're a bit young for you, don't you think?" She teased and he huffed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants. Watching her walk in the afternoon sun, Boone noticed all the little cuts and bruises she had tried to cover up. It hadn't worked though, rimming her eyes a deep purple and making them look ten times larger than they usually were. She was chewing her nails, limping gracelessly on her aching ankle. It was an odd sight, Annie usually the more energetic of the two. Watching her drag herself around was a little flooring.

Reaching the hangar, they were greeted by the smell of stale air and gunpowder. It took them a while to react to the light change, Boone removing his sunglasses in a last ditch effort attempt to see. The man that greeted them was an old fellow, stark white hair and a stiff jaw. The younger man beside him was a jittery kid who blanched when he finally laid eyes on Annie.

"I hope Pearl knows what she's doing, letting you wander around Nellis as you please."

"We're just looking for ways to make ourselves useful." Annie smiled sweetly, nodding her head in respect. The old man sighed, scratching his wrist before taking a swing glance at Boone.

"Well, Raquel has a bit of an ant problem… And Jack here needs some spare parts…"

"We can do spare parts." Annie told them, clasping her hands together, not too keen on the idea of returning to Raquel. The Master-At-Arms was not the nicest woman on the planet, making the hairs on the back of the courier's neck raise with irritation every time she spoke. "What are you after?"

"Scrap metal." Jack piped up beside Loyal, stepping forward to shake Annie's hand. "Wow, so you're an outsider? Lived your whole life out there, huh? Wow." Annie sniffed a laugh at him, shaking his hand merrily before he turned to Boone and did the same. "I always thought you savages spoke a different language, but you sound just like us."

"… Savages…" Annie breathed, blinking before turning red. "Oh, no, we're the same. Everyone speaks the same language out in the wastes." She looked up at Boone, who shrugged in return. Loyal left at the apparent tact of the boy, leaving the three alone in the small metal room. "So this scrap metal… how much do you need?"

"As much as you can get. We need to recycle every rivet in this place… And uh, since you're from the outside maybe you can help me with something more personal-" He caught the horrified look on Annie's face, turning red with embarrassment. The two of them stared at, both equally as uncomfortable as the other. "Never mind."

"No, no… I know you didn't mean… What… What is it?" She asked, shaking her head and waving her hand. "Where I come from people talk personal matters all the time." She patted Boone on the chest and he tensed.

"Well that must be nice… sharing yourself like that, not being embarrassed or anything?" He ruffled around in his desk, pulling out a slip of paper to palm it softly. "There's this girl…"

Annie's eyes brightened. "Tell me about it."

Boone wished she had taken the ant job.

* * *

That night they ate dinner in the mess hall, Boone crowded with younger girls and Annie chatting avidly with the children. The kids had taken quite a shine to them, interested in the outsider's strange clothes and war stories. The courier was telling the kids about deathclaws and ghouls and how she nearly got mugged that one time in Freeside… The children loved it, thrilled with the idea of a life of action and the constant fear of death – and the elders loved the fact that the children loved them.

The Boomers didn't turn out to be as bad as the courier had originally thought. They were xenophobic, which made all the more sense to her as the day went on. The duo had spent the afternoon in the museum, learning the tribal stories and chatting about life inside a fence with the little boy who ran the place. He even let her take the Nellis snow globe sitting on the desk, a little reminder of their own decent slice of heaven. Annie was getting used to being called a 'savage' too.

She had forgotten the feeling of a tribe; the sense of a close-knit community filling a hole in her heart that she didn't even know was there. There once was a time when she belonged to something the same – a piece of a puzzle that actually fit.

Jack sat down across from her out of nowhere, his blonde hair pushed off of his head by a pair of welding goggles. He passed her a piece of paper, grinning awkwardly at her while she unfolded it. Annie felt Boone's eyes burn into her shoulder, turning her torso so he could read it just as comfortably. But it wasn't a note - it was a picture.

Annie looked up at the boy, eyes wide but suddenly filled with happiness. The sniper took the photo from her hands, scanning over it with tired eyes before letting out a soft 'hmm'.

"When you walked in today, it scared the hell out of me. I don't know how old that photo is, but you and her look a lot alike. It was like a ghost, or _ghoul_, even." He leant on the table to reclaim the photo to show to certain points with the tip of his finger. "Look; same hair, same eyes, same nose…"

"I wish…" Annie moaned, heart beating like a drum. "She's beautiful."

"She must have been someone's girlfriend before the great war. I found it in one of the old crates a few years ago. Must have stayed in good condition because it's so dark and dry in here…" He tittered on like a schoolgirl "I always thought she was very pretty, so I kept it…" he trailed off, cheeks swimming with pink once again.

The courier smiled, the picture thrilling her to no end. The woman looked like her Jack of Spades that was currently wedged between the bathroom mirror and its frame, locked up in the dusty old Lucky 38 – albeit with more clothes.

He folded the picture, tucking it into his breast pocket. "I have to go and talk to Loyal now, but let me know how it goes with the red-haired girl."

"Of course." Annie beamed.


	23. Chapter 23

**This one's a little longer and hopefully a little better! Sorry about the previous chapter, though. I have been very.. whats the word... disheartened about my writing lately, but I received a review that sort of threw me back on track. **

**Genesis - Grimes **

* * *

Annie was suffering alone in the women's barracks, trapped in an unrequited conversation with Jack's new 'girl friend' Janet. The new girl was babbling on about her excitement – something that would have interested the courier on any other day but instead the girl was wide-eyed and cringing under a squeaky mattress.

Annie and Boone had travelled far and wide to return the red-headed girl to the arms of her squeamish lover, bouncing through New Vegas like modern-day cupids, sweeping the woman off of her feet with promises of a shy guy watching her from afar with binoculars. The point shouldn't have sold so well, Boone thought to himself, finding the whole thing more creepy than romantic – but Annie would have none of it. It may have actually been the single most adorable thing in the history of the Mojave, according to her.

It was all a big adventure until they had run into Boone's old unit at McCarran - a group of snipers with tight faces and heavy guns. They all held the scars of Bitter Springs on their tired bodies, peaking Annie's interest and Boone's nostalgia. He had forgotten how proud he was wearing the uniform, but remembered the shame and anger that followed it, tied behind the memory like sickly slaves. The situation had left him lost for words – not speaking more than two syllables back to Nellis, scouting dangers from under the big moon.

The more they travelled, the closer they came to Bitter Springs. It was a looming figure on his horizon, crackling with lightning and booming with thunder that shocked every synapse in his brain. He didn't want to speak about it with Annie, but he knew he had to… one day. Not any time soon, however. Not ever, if that could be helped.

Annie took the situation in a completely different light – reading his quiet as a distant want to return to his old roots. She could not roll over and ask him to speak to her, as he was away with the other men. It was so odd sleeping alone, without someone beside her breathing softly and innocently. The women were all fun enough, but there was only so much gossip that one could take – especially when she didn't know a soul of who they were talking about.

But if Boone left her, she would be alone once more. She was dependent on his ability to keep her safe even in the most boring times. Veronica was just not the same, and Arcade drove her wild some days… Boone was the perfect companion; a keen eye and a damaged voice box. The thought of him leaving her to re-join his old friends scared her to the point of white knuckles wrapped in bed sheets.

There was no chance in hell that she would survive House's rough schedule by herself – she needed the sniper to keep her on the tracks and not in the muddy ditch below. What would life be without Boone?

She could always go back to Red Rock Canyon… insert herself into her old life and try and make due. She could ignore the fact that she had left for a very strong reason (an idea that had itched at her brain every time she got homesick) and could settle down with one of the nicer boys and possibly start a family. Annie didn't want to do the whole New Vegas thing anyway… She would leave the casino with House and disappear into the wastes like nothing had ever happened. She had had her revenge, and it was not as sweet a she had hoped, and that placed the warmest cherry on the sundae.

She pulled herself out of bed, excusing her behaviour with her menstrual cycle and went outside for a smoke. Her stomach was turning itself in knots with nerves, her brain running on extra battery power to over think itself into sickness. How selfish of her to presume that it was Boone's _duty _to look after _her. _He had a better chance of self-fulfilment with a life in the desert, helping out his professional buddies better New Vegas with red berets and high-tech scopes.

Lighting the cancer stick with Benny's old Zippo, she shook it closed with a _tink. _

Maybe it was time to set Boone free – the thought made her laugh. She doubted he would take that well. Annie kicked her bare feet in the cold air, sucking in a lungful of fumes to drain it through her teeth a breath later.

The door of the male barracks opened and she looked over, a boomer stomping down the stairs and towards the mess hall.

"Hey!" She jumped at the opportunity. The man glanced over, attention caught as she stood up. "Is my guy in there?"

"The soldier?"

"That's him." She ashed with a click of her wrist. "Can you grab him for me? Not literally, though… Just call him for me."

The man gingerly returned to the door, leaning in for a moment to speak softly to the room only to turn back around and wave a goodbye. Boone turned up a moment later, leaning cautiously out the door to check the scene. Realising it was only his partner he jumped off the stairs to approach her quietly. He took an outstretched cigarette, lighting it with the pack of matches lodged in his pocket.

"Something wrong?"

"Are you alright?" She asked him, sitting down and tapping the wood to urge him to join.

"I'm fine." He sat beside her.

"And you're sure about that?" She asked, patting him gently on the knee. "Because you've been quiet all afternoon… Didn't even cry when Jack and Janet were introduced." He shot her a look.

"I'm fine." He took a drag quietly, looking at her bare feet in amusement. "Is this all you wanted to ask?"

"Sorry if you were sleeping." Annie apologised, rolling the filter between her fingers.

"I wasn't."

They stayed in reticence peacefully before Annie flicked the butt away, looking up at her counterpart with her eyes that swelled specifically in the moon.

"If you want—" She paused, the words jumping out of her mouth nervously "… If you want to go and join your old team, don't let me stop you."

"Yeah." He gave her a flat look. "No."

"No?" She perked. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to." He spoke deadpan, making her heart leap up into her throat to drop back into the pits of her digestion with a graceful swan dive. She punched his arm in happiness.

"Don't let my enthusiasm fool you, Boone, you can leave whenever you want to." She told him, rubbing her own up suddenly in shyness.

"I know that."

"Well then…" She cleared her throat. "Thanks for staying with me. I know you've got your own schedule to tend to and spending all this time trailing beside me must bore you to death some days but… thank you for staying." She patted her own thighs with tight _slaps. _"Means a great deal to have a bit of first recon looking after me."

Boone looked down at her and she smiled at him, turning his gloomy mood into one of more guilt. He scolded himself for being quiet all afternoon, his mind piecing together that she was probably doing that woman thing where they take one thing completely out of context and worry themselves sick about it. Carla did it all the time, and Annie (as it seemed) was no different. He felt like an asshole.

"Do you think we could go see Bitter Springs some time soon? When we finish with these guys?"

He paled at the words.

"Why?" He asked, his voice as grating and stony as it had always been.

"Because I keep wanting to go see the Khans but there's something that's bothering me. There's a reason I left, I just know it. I just don't know exactly what it _is." _She looked away at the thought for a millisecond, returning her gaze to his. Their eyes burnt each other for a moment, his riling with sickness and hers with loneliness. "Bitter Springs will remind me. I know it. I need a reason to not go Red Rock." The man didn't say anything, breaking eye contact to stare helplessly at the hangars miles away. The girl caught onto his sudden mood change, eyes checking over the tightened jaw and strong grip on the taut wood of the stairs. She had possibly said something wrong, clicking back to Manny's sad look that one night back in Novac. Bitter Springs seemed like a touchy subject for any man in a beret.

Annie touched his leg softly, resting it to run her fingers up and down in a supposedly comforting rub.

"I know something went down in the ol' Springs, Boone, but I'm not going to ask you because I know it makes you uncomfortable. I could set you on fire and you wouldn't move because you are _very_ rigid right now… Boone?" She waved her hand at him and he turned his neck to look at her again. "I'm kidding. Something's bothering you and I know it, you're not as hard to read as you think. You don't have to tell me, your secrets are your secrets and not mine, but I want to go back for a while."

"Not now."

"Not now." She nodded, placing her palm back into her lap. "When you're ready."

They sat in silence, staring up at the candle sky. It was lit by thousands of tiny white lights, just like the solar model at the Repconn centre. The grass around them blew in the wind, chilling up Annie's arms and legs and goose-bumping her scarred skin. Boone had lost himself in thought, his gaze soaked blank and dead. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses for the first time in what seemed like forever, the thought making Annie ease up a little.

Boone was a human after all – even he couldn't see in the dark. The realisation that he was still a man turned Annie confident. The man still had feelings buried deep inside him _somewhere, _and if a couple of words could ease his pain there was no harm in trying.

"I don't know what happened, but Manny didn't seem too proud when he mentioned it…" She started again, breaking him out of his thoughts sparring. "But hey, if you've killed a couple of Khans, Boone, I'm not going to be upset with you. I know we were pretty rowdy… I'm sure I tipped my fair share of NCR caravans back in the day… whatever you did was probably warranted."

"It wasn't." He said curtly, standing awkwardly to leave. She slipped next to him, tugging his arm as he avoided her gaze. "I'm going to go to bed now." She let him go, rubbing her hands together in the chilly air. "Good night."

"Night, Boone. Sleep well." She told him and he stood for a moment, taking her in with a pinch of propensity.

Was it selfish of him to keep her from finding her own past? He stared down at her, the moon brushing her with pale skin and bright eyes – an innocent spectre that was the personification of the last amount of lust he had in the shell of his body. For once he wanted to be back at the casino where she floated around in her pyjamas most of the time, talking only of stupid things that seemed unimportant at the time but turned the memories into something pleasant and not_ wrong_.

He wanted so badly to have a double bed again where she could lay and talk to him all night, occasionally touching him to watch him squirm unhappily. The wastes only reminded him that he was alone and so was she, but in the casino they had built a nest that was _their _space. It felt criminal to be in a bunker full of men again, the testosterone pumping with bad jokes about things he probably couldn't relate to if he had even tried.

(They had even asked him about Annie – after he had carefully explained to them that they were not a 'thing'. _Does she like tall guys? _or _Would she consider a long distance relationship? _or his personal favourite _I bet she looks fantastic under that armour. Does she look fantastic under her armour? _

For the record she did look fantastic under her armour, but that thought was lodged in the deepest parts of his mind.)

"Boone?" She asked again, quietly this time, his gaze unnerving her slightly. He blinked back to life, grimacing openly before making the decision to rest his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to reach out. She took the hand in her own and squeezed it, giving it a quick kiss for good luck before he pulled away awkwardly to return to his bed.


	24. Chapter 24

**This one is long, because I love you all and I honestly couldn't stop typing!**

**Skin - Grimes**

* * *

"This heat will be the death of me, Boone." Courier six was kicking hunks of dirt and sand like footballs, the air exploding with dusty red fireworks. The sniper was too busy picking off geckos to respond, enjoying the open range through the eye of his scope. "When we get to the lake can I go for a swim?"

"If you're a fan of lakelurks, sure." He muttered back as he lowered his rifle to reload.

"Only the biggest fan of lakelurks in the Mojave." She drawled sarcastically, pulling her pack free from her shoulders and groaning loudly. "Can we stop for some water?"

"You can see the lake from here." He shook his head, returning to his game. "Twenty minutes and we'll be there."

"People can die from dehydration in twenty minutes, Boone."

"You won't." He told her blankly, watching the distance as she dug around for her canteen. Taking a slight sip, she held it out to him. The crack of the rifle sounded and he took it off of her, slinging the gun onto his back silently. She had grown accustomed to his little routine; he would check the scene out first before she was allowed to follow through.

At first it was irritating, because Annie was terrible at ranged shooting - and Boone would get all the good kills before she even had a chance to try anything new. But after a while she found it comforting, much preferring to go in after he had cleared the area for her. This meant less chance of getting shot, stabbed or bitten - a perfect combination in the eyes of the Mojave.

Annie's pipboy was burning red when they reached the docks, the girl glancing over at the direction of the rolling hills. "There's something over there." She told Boone quietly. "In fact, whatever it is, they're everywhere. Lots of them."

"Cazadors, probably. They've always got nests in this area." The man stopped awkwardly, slipping his eyes in her direction. "Do we have any anti-venom?"

"What do you think?"

He grumbled unhappily about 'preparation', taking his scope from his belt to figure out the situation. Annie shifted through her memories to summon the idea of a Cazador, paling marginally when she remembered the story of half of her old travelling team dying painfully in the warm sands of the afternoon. The thought made her sick.

"Taking them on would be a terrible idea." She took his arm, forcing his gaze from the distance to her own. "We get this damn plane up then we leave."

"Good idea."

They tucked their packs under the docks on the cleanest, driest patch of sand they could find. Annie retrieved the ballasts and rebreathers, tossing half to Boone before unzipping her armor. She kicked it under the dock hurriedly, heart racing at the thought of a cazador sneaking up behind them – not likely while Boone was around but still a terrifying idea.

The last thing they needed was to writhe to death in their underwear face down in the sand.

"Come on, Mr Handy – no one's going to be unimpressed with you if they find your clothes unfolded." Annie cocked her hip to her hand, staring painfully at her companion who was squaring his pants over his forearm. He took of his sunglasses terribly slow, folding them into his beret so he could stand importantly in front of her.

It was the first time Annie had ever seen beneath Boone's clothes, and the shock caused her to snicker at him – not a bright idea if you take a man's ego into account. His brows evened and he frowned, folding his arms across his chest with a huff.

He had his machete tucked into his underwear, finally heaving the heavy ballast onto his shoulder after pulling the breathing apparatus over his head. Although he looked like a heaving dork with a facemask, Annie felt the sudden urge to touch him again, even if it meant another swift punch to the arm – his skin like a foreign delicacy that was only imported every so often.

The sniper stood semi-proud in front of her, waiting for the go-ahead but not receiving it due to the courier's obvious peeking. He felt scrutinized, almost self-conscious under her sticky gaze but he stood all the while, spirits lifting when her eyes finally dragged themselves to his face. Her mouth broke into a happy grin.

"Why we don't do this more often is completely beyond me." She told him, adjusting the straps of her travel bra with lithe fingers. They stared at each other for a moment more, dwelling and reveling in the welcome invasion of privacy. Their actions could be compared to two predators sizing each other up, running their gaze along their limbs with interest. Boone had seen all of Annie before, but enjoyed the idea of seeing her in that state for the first time in a while – having spent the week with a cabin full of friendly men and not the sheer-clothed courier. He felt no guilt in looking at her like he did, because she was doing the same.

The moment fizzled with tension before Annie snapped, clearing her throat quietly before she could take advantage of him in the sand.

Once their stuff was secured and the sniper was happy with the situation, they waded waist deep into the lake. The water was cold around their thighs, goose-bumping their unbathed skin and cooling their central cores. Annie's pipboy read clear, the final go-ahead to bend their knees and submerge themselves in the lake. Annie let out a groan of happiness when she re-appeared from the shallow water, pushing her wet hair off of her face and over her shoulders to grin at Boone.

"It's like a gigantic bathtub." She moaned, rubbing the water from her eyes. Boone floated morbidly beside her; trying to remember the last time he had taken a dip in Lake Mead. The courier was using her ballast as a semi-floatie, bobbing up and down and turning in the water like a sea beast. "There's no greater feeling than weightlessness. I wonder if this is what flying feels like."

"You'll have to ask the Boomers when they get this thing working." He spoke louder than usual, his muscles relaxing for the first time in a while. The lake was liquid therapy, his brain grasping Annie's weightlessness theory with two hands – giving up his tension for a moment of relaxation to soak up the beaming sun above them.

Drifting above the beeping marker on her pipboy, she gave her companion a thumbs-up. They pushed the ballasts under water, the hiss of the last remaining hints of air bubbling and bursting the surface with sputters and coughs. Annie pulled her rebreather over her nose, giving her partner a final punch before ducking under the waves.

Annie was done within a few minutes, clicking the hunk of plastic into place and tightening the straps. The plane seemed like it went for miles, a dark, looming figure at the bottom of the green-tinged lake. She swam around the nose of it for a moment, awed by the giant metal creature that apparently once flew across the skies. She was joined by Boone a moment later, the man accidentally sneaking up behind her with a burst of bubbles.

The courier pointed to the surface before shrugging plainly, swirling her finger in a circle to point at the muddy floor. There was so much to explore down there, the girl enthralled by the rusty shopping cart that almost seemed to float past them like time had slowed.

Even underwater Boone still managed to look fervently unimpressed, pointing tiredly to the surface. She reached out and patted his arm, aiming her finger back to him before turning her finger back to the surface – pressing her own chest and swirling her hand once again as if to say 'I will be more than happy to stay in this underwater wonderland'. He sighed to the best of his ability and kicked away.

She ran her body through the slimy weeds, running her fingers through the wet sand like it was her own personal art board. _The world would be better if it was underwater_, she thought to herself while tipping a shopping cart upright before pushing it along the lake's floor. If only Boone shared her enthusiasm, she thought miserably, then they could have played Pre-War grocery shopping together. It was a thought in vain, however, the girl knowing full well that even if the man had the tolerance of a priest he would not humour her strange fetishes.

Once she had exhausted all of her playthings, Annie decided to return to the surface to tell Boone of all her discoveries. She had even managed to find a crate of Sunset Sarsaparilla, unopened and probably fresh and cool – only snagging two in fear of angering a hoarding lakelurk.

Kicking closer to the surface, she could hear the telltale sounds of Boone's rifle, the loud crack reverberating through her ears that were smothered by water. Heart in her throat, she pushed harder, breaking the surface in a burst of spray. Shaking the drops from her eyes, she focused in on the man taking on what could be considered a hive of Cazadors.

Her blood ran cold, forcing her legs to propel her at double her speed, her lungs aching in exertion before she finally noticed and threw the rebreather off. The plastic chunk disappeared somewhere into the depths, swallowed by the once peaceful new world below. Once her feet hit the bottom, she sprinted as fast as she could to their packs.

"What is going on here?" She called to her partner who whipped around suddenly to finally catch her arrival.

"No time." His machete decapitated one of the larger bugs, the body bouncing into the sand while it's wings still fluttered faintly. Annie cocked her newly acquired shotgun, trying to aim as well as she possibly could before blowing one of them away. Their numbers were dwindling, but this fact made the remaining insects more furious – frenzying around them with the sickening sounds of beating wings.

She fired her second shell, ripping the wings off of one cazador and gutting the other – leaving Boone to take one large swing to hack the last bug to death. They stopped battle, breathing heavily as Annie lurched over to catch her breath.

And then he sat in the sand, letting out a loud sigh before simply laying down.

"Boone?" Annie reeled back, anxiously shifting towards his lifeless body. "Are you alright?" She crept to him quietly, bending her skinny knees to crouch over his torso.

"One got me." He mumbled at her.

"Of _course_ it did." Her mouth went dry at the thought. "Where?"

"Left leg, below the knee." He pointed at it lazily, hands returning to rub his face in annoyance. "Fucking hurts like hell."

"How the fuck did it get you there?" She muttered, not really caring for an answer. She was racking her brain for any remedy she could remember, falling short with the memory of a Great Khan's heavy boots skidding in the desert's dust as he slowly convulsed to death. She tried to shake the thought, her heart racing like a deathclaw after a gecko.

She got up and walked away, only to return with their packs a moment later. She took a spare pair of her underwear and ripped them in half, bending his knee painfully to knot it tightly around his lower thigh.

"Sorry buddy, this is the best I can do for now." She told him quietly, resting her palm softly on his torso. She fought for a glimpse of his blue eyes, but they were already closed in pain. Although her face stayed plain, her hands were shaking as if she were holding a pistol. "Where'd they come from?"

"That boat house _and_ the hills." His breath came through his teeth. "This is your fault, by the way."

"Don't blame me for this shit." She hissed at him, sending him a look of hatred. He never openly blamed her for anything, the feeling of him being disappointed in her one of the stronger things she had felt. "… What did I do?"

"You need to put the grenades in a case where they won't get caught on anything." He told her sternly, throwing his head back into the sand harshly. "I went to take out your canteen and the fucking clip pulled on a frag."

"Holy shit." She paled. "I'm… God, Boone, I'm so sorry." He didn't respond, turning his head to face the other way. Although the pain he felt was almost unbearable, he couldn't bare see her take the blame for something as unlucky as their situation.

"You're lucky it didn't blow up all our supplies."

"Or you." She sighed, staring over at the old boathouse. She couldn't see any movement, checking her pipboy and finding no threats. "I'm going to take you to that shed, okay? We'll get you out of the sun and then I'll figure out what to do."

She adjusted herself under his shoulders, leaning back to use all of her weight to drag him along. His legs wouldn't move, seizing up like useless logs. Although he tried his hardest, Boone couldn't stop the grunts of pain crawling up his throat – sending Annie into guilt overdrive as she lugged his deadweight into the coolness of the abandoned boathouse.

"Do you think you could make it to Bitter Springs? It's a refugee camp – I'm sure they have a medical tent." She asked him quietly as she pondered, the man almost falling into cardiac arrest at the thought.

"No."

"Boone-" She started.

"No."

He laid lifeless in the shade, staring up at the roof with pained blue eyes that seemed to suck in everything around them. Time went double for him, Annie seemingly moving in fast-motion as she buzzed around, tending to his wound as best she could.

"It's only a small sting." She told him between his visions. "If you sleep it off you will be fine. It's going to really fucking hurt when I pull the stinger out though, so brace yourself."

He reached out and grabbed her fleshy thigh in a moment of desperation, her brown eyes flicking to his for a minute of hesitation. She wasn't going to let him die like this – it was no way for a man hell-bent on revenge to go out. He deserved to die under a pile of sweaty men in leather if that was his dream – and by god she would not let him fail.

"Ready?" She asked and he nodded, grasping her skin with his rough fingers. "One… two… **three**!"

"Oh-" He gripped her thigh so hard that she thought he was going to take a chunk for himself, his legs finally regaining feeling long enough to twitch and dig their heels into the dirty concrete.

"You're alright, you're okay." She soothed his fingers on her thigh, releasing herself from his death grip to take his hand. She kissed his knuckles, resting them on her cheek as his body settled to hurried breathing. "The worst part's over now."

He grunted something in reply but she didn't catch it, busily tucking through their packs to gingerly place their grenades back in their rightful pockets. Another mistake on her part that had almost gotten them killed – she could have started carving notches into the walls the way she was going.

Her eyes resting on the abandoned agave leaves – meant for lunch but proving a memory trigger of way back when she was still learning desert medicine. An elderly Khan named Nanna used to tell all the young ones about the healing properties of the plants around the Mojave, the agave leaf (when crushed) being a perfect sponge for any type of poison. Most didn't listen, but apparently Annie did.

"Water?" He asked her quietly, breaking her concentration. She perked and looked down at him, kissing his fingers for the second time that day.

"No, sweetheart. Water will thin the blood and that's the last thing we need. I can water down some scotch for you though – keep it level." She rested his hand on his own chest.

"I want water."

"Well get up and get it then." She snapped at him, turning back to the fruit. She crushed the plant between her palms, grinding the green pus into a thick paste that coated her fingers stickily. "I'll get you water after I deal with this, okay? The last thing I want right now is the poison getting fast-tracked straight to your heart."

"Since when are you a doctor?" He asked, his voice pitching with a slight delirium. Even though she had stemmed the flow, the cazador liquid was now pumping softly through his body.

"I'm not." She told him, reaching over to dab a finger-full of paste onto the sting. His legs flipped out, knees arching up inches from her face. "Christ, Boone. Can you control that?"

"Obviously."

"No sarcasm, asshole." She huffed at him, the man rolling his eyes at her in a fit of childishness. The hallucinogen had taken his sense of maturity hostage.

She forced his legs down, feeling the vibrations of his muscles as they twitched and ached beneath her hands. "Do you think you can control that?"

"I don't think so." He grit his teeth, heels now bleeding from the tear of the rough ground. She leant over and grasped his ankles, struggling to keep them together in one hand, touching the sting to the cream for the second time.

His torso twisted in pain and he kicked himself free, lying in a pool of his own sweat with his tense back facing her. She rubbed the curve of his waist with her forearm comfortingly, forcing him onto his back with a soft tug. "Come on now, you big baby, lay still for me."

She threw her leg over his body, sitting on the top of his thighs to hold him down. His eyes were finally able to trace every scar on her back, racing the droplets of water down the curve of her spine with a steady gaze. The activity took the matter at hand off of his mind, allowing Annie to finally pin his ankles down so she could cup the paste around the swelling sting. The pain was sudden and rough, like his blood was on fire and coursing through every single inch of him. He grabbed the sides of her underwear in desperation for something to hold, grasping the thin cotton in his thick hands while his mouth spurred little grunts and groans of agony.

"Don't you rip my only pair of underwear…" She warned him jokingly as she bent her torso to put pressure on the wound. He twisted his hands in the fabric, tying his hands into her clothes like a slave as his breath escaped harshly through his tight jaw. The longer she held the paste to his leg, the less pain he felt. His muscles soon stopped shivering, allowing his whole body to relax in a slump.

His head fell to the concrete, thoroughly exhausted as the girl leant back, wiping the sweat off of her forehead.

"I'm taking the relaxing as the fact that it feels better, right? You didn't die on me, did you?" She turned her head to look down at him and he gave her the faintest smile known to man. Her heart rejoiced. "So I'll give you a stim in a while when that paste dries, and then I'll bandage it for you, alright?" She pulled herself off of him, wiping the green paste on her ribcage to lean on her knees beside him.

The grey cotton of her undergarments had begun to dry, hiding the patches of skin that had soaked through the sopping fabric. He could see each and every bit of her from the darkness of her nipples to the brush of hair between her thighs, her chest heaving with simmering breaths that stretched the material across and around the body that he had grown so used to.

Annie wasn't a girl like he had always thought – she was a woman, a beautifully pieced woman who seemed to have been sewn together like a patchwork quilt. Her scars blended in perfectly with her lightly Hispanic skin, like a shimmering coat of stripes and stars.

In the light of the afternoon, she looked like some sort of ethereal being – the halo of light from the dirty windows shining behind her and lighting her skin into a soft glow. The way she was staring at him, her face soft and relieved as she checked over the rest of his body, let him know that he was not alone in his thoughts.


	25. Chapter 25

**My eyes hurt wah :( Hope you enjoy this chapter**

**Hippies is Punks - Wavves**

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Boone's eyes opened to purple skies, clouds fading in and out of shapes and patterns that had seemingly come from nowhere. The air was pleasantly warm though sticky, sifting in through the open doors of the boat shed like batted lashes on cheeks. His body was raving with goose bumps, prickling his skin against the rough fabric of his newly found pants. His entire body ached, joints clicking and muscles groaning in complaint as he shifted himself up on his elbows to sweep his eyes for Annie. He found her stoking a small fire a few metres away, keeping the flames low enough to avoid detection.

"Hey." He grunted loud enough for her to hear. She perked at the sound of his voice, springing to full height to head towards him. "How long was I out?"

"Three hours." She checked her pipboy, the glove a sleek black against her bare skin. She was traipsing around in one of his undershirts tucked into her armour pants, preferring the maturity that came with the ability to sit with one's legs open.

"What's the time..?" He drawled off, attempting to kick-start his tired brain. "Five o'clock?"

"No, it's seven." She blinked at him. "You didn't get brain damage, did you?" He gave her a salty look, making her grin brightly. "Nope, still a grumpy old man… Don't you remember waking up before? We had an entire conversation, and then when I went to cook you a late lunch you fell asleep again."

"Not at all." He rubbed his head, sitting upright to stretch his back warily. The sky was darkening around them, fading into a soft navy dotted with whites. Her face fell mildly surprised, nodding her head as she leant to his height. She cocked her pipboy to his face, leaning on his shoulder to keep steady.

"Well in that case, you've been out for… oh, maybe twenty-six hours give or take." She tapped the screen with dirty nails. "You obviously needed it, because you've slept like a log this entire time. I actually had to check if you were dead a few times…" She trailed off, a weird look accidentally fleeting through.

He reeled at his idle time, running his palm over his head in disbelief. Annie's pipboy was always synced to the right time - there was no way (and no reason) she would trick him like that. That poison had sucked him dry, literally taking him a day to regenerate what little energy he had at that point in time. She had stayed up twenty five hours straight looking after him, and he still felt like he needed another twenty more.

"Have you slept?" He asked, turning his cheek to face Annie. She grinned in his face.

"Not much, but now that you're awake I'd love a nap." Stretching to five seven once again, she threw her arms up and stretched, kicking her boots off suddenly with two heavy **_bang_**s. She stopped, mid-thought. "That's if you're going to stay awake."

"I'll stay awake." He told her, rubbing his eyes before struggling up. There was no pain in his leg whatsoever, Annie's desert magic working its medicine precisely. Boone leant on a wooden bench, surveying the dark workshop with unsteady eyes. Although it was deep blue outside, the natural night-light still shone brightly through the holes in the roof almost like a white sun – the Mojave full moon.

He headed to his pack, retrieving his sunglasses and beret, fixing them onto his face in muscle memory. The girl turned in her place, picking the exact spot where he had slept moments before to make her bed. His abandoned body warmth in the concrete was like a heated mattress, bent in a perfect place.

"There's food over by the fire. You can let it go out if you want, it really isn't necessary." She waved her hand at him, curling onto her side to shine moon-plated eyes at him. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

"Better. Thank you." He found his way to the fire, taking a spot in front of the cooking plate. "You never told me you knew much about medicine."

"I told you this three hours ago." She mocked, giving him a soft smile before folding her arm under her head, curling her fingers under her neck. "Back at Bitter Springs, there was this old Khan named Nanna. She was a real tough bitch but she knew all about desert medicine. You barely ever see any old people out in the wastes but when you do you know they're the real shit." Her eyes were shiny with sleep. "But yeah, lucky break on my behalf. God knows what would've happened if I didn't remember."

"Death." He sighed at her, oddly complacent about his brush with fate.

"No…" She stared over his shoulder at the rotting canoes. "Probably would have lost your leg first… And then there ain't much use in the wastes if you only got one leg, Boone, probably would have ended up putting you down anyway."

He stared silently at Annie, the flames casting rushing warm light over her tired face. The courier's cheeks had declared a certain tan from being in the sun all day, turning her into a sleepy foreign queen that had claimed his makeshift bed.

"Thank you." He repeated, catching the girl's sad attention.

"All my fault." She drawled awkwardly. "But it's alright because I fixed it…" Her voice strained softly as she stretched onto her back, arching her spine to creakily get comfortable. "I'm just glad you're alright, Boone - couldn't stand to lose you, buddy."

"Anna…" Boone started, not keen to start the general conversation of her talking about how much she liked him. It was one of those awkward situations where he would end up feeling terrible because he could never say anything back, taking her bountiful compliments like a greedy old man that bathed in her attention. It wasn't like that at all, though – he just couldn't think of anything to say. He had the ideas in his mind, sure, but they were often stuck behind his teeth.

She sat up quietly and reached for the pack of smokes by the fire, helped by his weary hands.

"How long has it been since you've slept?" He asked, counting the time in his mind.

"I fell asleep by the fire for a couple of hours back there. It's okay." She breathed the tobacco to life, shutting the lighter and stuffing it in her pocket. "I want to stay up and talk to you. I've been lonely – all I've been doing is _thinking_. For _hours_."

"You should have woken me up." He changed the subject, snatching the packet of cigarettes to pull out his own. Shaking the match out a moment later, he looked up to see she was laying back down again, eyes to the ceiling as she blew tufts of smoke from her thing lips.

"No, you really needed it." Her ash fell in patterns next to her. "Trust me on this one, Boone, you were seriously fucked."

He swiped a burning cherry from his pant leg, stretching them out in front of him in a moment of ache. "Did you dress me?" The sniper asked, rubbing the fallen ash into a black spot.

"Of course I did." She turned her neck to look up at him. "And don't get all weird about it either, I've seen it before."

His brows knitted together momentarily, his mind still slowly booting up. It was expected of Annie to throw things at him when he wasn't competent enough to have a comeback. It may have been how tired she was, but the speech filter in the back of her throat had deteriorated, turning her hour-long thoughts into weird little words.

Instead of dignifying her sentence with a reply, he gave her a tired look, receiving no satisfaction from the one she sent back. He was in no mood to deal with the bombastic Annie, settling his blue gaze into the fire to let them thaw under its hot tongue.

"Talk to me." She whined, rolling over to face him once again, resting her palm under her ear to take a drag from her cigarette. "I told you not to get weird about it."

"I'm not getting 'weird'." He snapped at her, feeling ridiculous under her smarmy gaze. "I just… I don't know what to say."

She felt ashamed the moment the words came from her mouth – often forgetting that Boone wasn't one for a light chat. He'd been asleep for a day, and she had missed him, and seeing him alive and 'Boone happy' sucked away whatever fatigue she had gathered over the day. She wanted to make up or all the precious time they had lost together, planning all the things she could say to make him smile at her in the slightest approval – and all of her goals fell short when she realised that he was Boone.

He was just Boone – that man who never really knew what to say so didn't say anything at all.

Annie remembered the times when she would tell him naughty things to watch him squirm in a way only he could (the brief widening of the eyes, the almost comical flare of the nostrils and his awe-inspiring ability to zip back fifty feet). She revelled in the fact that she could make him so disposed when she showed him a bare shoulder, the full kit driving him to a bottle of scotch and a very satisfying fellatio. There was a time when she had him under her thumb, under the impression that she was under his – and in their current moment it was nothing like that.

If she were to try something he wouldn't back down – possibly sling it right back at her in a way reserved for stony-faced comedians in a packed theatre. Boone was sly with his words, which is why there were few. Annie had no sense of domination over him anymore, the man clicking to the fact that Annie _liked _to be told off – to be grated for her misdoings and felt far too satisfied when hurting herself or others. The thrill of being naughty was Annie's game and Boone had finally figured it out, credit to Old Ben. It only took one night with her knees on rotting floorboards for her entire game to crash and burn.

"I forget about that sometimes." She told him quietly, flicking her cig into the fire. The tobacco burnt with a faint fizzle, punctuating her sentence like a little laugh track. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise." He said tiredly, abashed by her sympathy. "Don't."

Boone had really grown to like Annie, although he wouldn't admit it to himself. It was nice to have another body in the bed when he woke in the morning, and the smell of a woman floating around their place brought back happier moments more times than the bad. All she did was fill the silence with him, and in turn that blocked out the screaming in the back of his head. It would have been a strange thought back in Novac – that he would have found someone that made him happy after Carla had passed – but there it was, sitting in the neglected part of Boone's brain like an embarrassing memory.

He didn't really want to give in to the girl that attempted to psychologically torture him for a month, because the moment he said something that put them too deep would be the moment she would win. He knew the girl like the back of his hand, but even he did not know how to handle her when she psyched herself up on that fucked up sadomasochism thing she had going on – she was a ball of energy that surprised him time and again, and it not happening as often just concentrated the unstable formula.

Nine times out of ten, Annie felt that her kind feelings towards Boone were stronger than the raw need to fuck him and then destroy him. She had no idea how it had happened, only tweaked by that one night that _he_ had been the one rough with her – but that couldn't explain the empty ache in her chest when she thought of him not being around anymore. Although her sexual needs had been put on a leash, there was literally no reason she had to _ache_ over the sniper. But he was just Boone and that's what was so frustrating about him.

He was just so good-looking; the way he sat by the fire with his forearms on his knees while the burnt orange licked his tinted glasses softly, further pressing the idea of the handsome stranger. He was so fine in his faded shirt – when it rode up while he slept to show the soft skin of his hips that screamed to be touched… Annie had thought all day long about what it must have felt like to have her ankles linked around his shoulders – what the soft skin of his neck tasted like under her tongue and teeth, or what noise he would make when she dragged her nails down his back.

But once he was awake all she wanted to do was talk.

"I'm gonna get some sleep, okay? Wake me at five and we'll head back to Nellis." She waved him goodnight with the flick of her fingers, dismissing herself back to her lonely thoughts. At least there Boone would comply to her every command. "Night buddy." He watched her roll onto her stomach, burying her arms under her makeshift pillow before letting her wide eyes close quietly. She let out a huff of comfort like an old dog on its bed.

He had to make note that she was still the beautiful creature he had laid eyes on in the mouth of the dinosaur. She was nowhere near Carla but he guessed that's why he liked her so much – she _wasn't _Carla. He couldn't tarnish his beautiful ex-wife's memory by replacing her with a carbon copy, but he could remember her as being the only light of his life. Annie wasn't a light; she was the strangling vine that had wrapped herself around him and had just stopped strangling after a while. He liked that.

He pressed his cigarette out on the cooling concrete, reaching for the warm teapot she had left him full of food. "Night, Annie."


	26. Chapter 26

**Apologies that this took so long! I've been super tired and blah blah blah excuses.**

**Leave me some feedback in the reviews section because it seriously is the best thing to wake up to! It's totally late here, so surprise me when I have to wake up to get my boyfriend out of bed tomorrow morning -_-**

**Talking Like I'm Falling Downstairs - Sparkadia**

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"It's peaceful here, isn't it?" Annie was packing her bags slowly the morning after, folding bits and pieces only to cram them in uncomfortably into her backpack. The shed was glowing with a warm orange, light filtering in through the broken windows. "It's like the casino, but outside." There was a certain feeling attached to waking up early for an adventure, a stomach bitten with fatigue and a head swelling to adjust to the extra hours in the day.

"How?" Boone asked, awkwardly pressing down his growing hair with his flat palms. They had taken longer than expected on their trip, giving the man a more rugged look than he usually purveyed. Usually Boone was the spitting image of a clean-shaven new aged man, but without the comfort of a razor he had managed to regrow his lonely man's beard (barely there but rough to the fingers).

"It's quiet. And it's just you and me all the time." She zipped the pack roughly, digging through a side pocket to drag out her smokes. Her eyes brightened at the thought, looking over at him from across the shed. "Do you want to run away and just live here forever?"

"Sounds great." He deadpanned at her, earning him a soft look from the courier.

"Wouldn't you want to just leave everything behind and start afresh? I already tried it once and it's not going too well already…" Tightening the laces on her boots, she staggered to full height before readying herself for their departure. "But I suppose we can't live in a boatshed forever…" The sun was rising behind them, sending soft rays of light over the glistening lake.

Annie would have loved the idea of spending the rest of her days camped at the beach. There was always water to purify and food to catch, a place to sleep and the absolute silence of nature. It was nothing like the place on the Strip they called home, in a way that when they closed their eyes at night they felt safer than they would have inside.

The water lapped against the shore as the remote in the courier's hands started to beep. Boone was waiting behind her, watching as a set of lakelurks scuffled on the beach just to keep the situation in hand. They hadn't bothered the pair over the couple of days after Boone wiped out half their family, more concerned with chasing birds and fighting for male dominance. Simple creatures, really.

Annie pressed the button with an outstretched finger, waiting breathlessly for the aircraft to emerge. When it did, it arrived with a burst of spray, startling the wildlife and earning a squeal of excitement from the courier. Boone watched on, impressed with the sheer size of the thing. He wasn't a fan of being underwater (too many blind spots in the murky haze) so checking out the plane was not one of his priorities.

"Isn't that cool! That thing used to _fly, _Boone. It's huge!" She held the straps of her bags excitedly. "When they get it running they have to take me for a ride!" She looked up at her companion who was giving her a small smile, relaying the contrasts between Annie's morning skin and the shine of the warm sun on the wet metal.

The lakelurks burst the vessel with bright blue circles, wailing in terror with their ugly cries. This gave Annie and Boone the supreme chance to sneak away undetected, kicking sand over their fire before marching their tightly laced boots out of there.

They passed the turn off to Bitter Springs on the way back to Nellis, Boone's face pulled into a tight line the entire way. If it weren't for the constant need of recon he would have kept his eye to the road in front of him. He could only shred his insides mentally as the young girl looked wistfully up at the campgrounds, sighing almost unhappily when her childhood drifted out of view once again.

Amongst the pain and hatred that boiled in his stomach grew a tiny tumour of grief. It was like he was inhibiting her from finding out who she was, like a selfish old man who sucked the life out of young girls like Annie. It felt wrong, like he was holding her from her fate because he was too ashamed to return to the place of the turn of his life.

Just because he was semi-dead on the inside didn't mean that the lively girl should suffer the same fate.

The ideas drowned in his head like a sad song, checking the horizon before stopping mid-step. He stood his ground as the courier turned around to figure out what was wrong. Boone was generally the pace maker in the march back home. Annie was mid-sentence, thrown off of her conversation by her partner sudden turning stationary.

"What's wrong?"

"You can go to Bitter Springs if you want." He told her, shifting his feet awkwardly on the metaphorical eggshells.

"What?" She asked, reaching up to tighten her pony tail with her slim hands. "Now?" Her cocked head earned her a stern look. "No, Boone." She ended up letting out a soft laugh, starting to walk backwards as she coiled her fingers to urge him to follow.

"But you want to go."

"We have to get back to the Boomers… And besides, we're low on nearly everything." She got him to take a step forward, his neck turning to take one last look at Coyote Tail Ridge before powering on. "Don't worry yourself, okay? Just because you've got a stone face doesn't mean I can't read it like a baby book." She punched his arm lightly when she turned back around, earning her a grunt in return. "I'll go when you're ready."

"Why do you have to wait for me?" He asked her tiredly, slightly irritated at her want to wait. He didn't want the overbearing feeling of guilt that circled his head to carrier another burden, especially one as big as Annie's feelings.

"I… don't want to go alone." She told him, feeling better to be honest about it. The thought of returning to Bitter Springs without Boone behind her gave her an oddly chilling feeling, like the situation just wouldn't feel whole without him. She lit a cigarette in a short-lived surge of angst. "You have demons, I have demons – we'll kill them together."

The claws embedded in his stomach eased at her words, feeling a little better at the thought of not being alone through whatever he was going through. Annie, although irritating at times and definitely not the best partner-in-crime, still managed to brighten his day – even if it only was a ray of sunlight through a hole in thick curtains.

"Alright."

* * *

Annie had dragged Boone back to the Wrangler a few hours after they returned home. They had quickly scrubbed the day's worth of dirt and dust from their skin, polishing themselves into their usual Strip personas –the sniper removing his excess hair in the bathroom mirrors while Annie stood in front of him to manicure her brows. Then she had made him repack his bags and walked him quietly up the stairs of the sloppy Freeside bar, locking the door behind them.

She had been quiet ever since she had returned from Houses' suite, her eyes burning with a certain melancholy that he had never seen before.

He was lying beside her with a smoke perched between his fingers, watching as she clutched a half-full bottle scotch between her creamy thighs. All Boone wanted to do was rest, but he knew he could not sleep while she sat and pondered over something he didn't know of. Annie always told him everything that was on her mind, but this time she seemed to be fighting the battle alone.

It was either kill House or blow up the Brotherhood of Steel bunker.

She wanted to say something, but she did not know how he would react. It wasn't a bad thing, no, but it was a decision that she felt she needed to make on her own. Boone never seemed too interested in her advances towards a joint ownership of the Strip, so the decision to kill House was placed solely on her shoulders. She didn't want to own the piece of land that had housed some of her worst nightmares, the idea that she could actually run the community by knifing an old man seemed weird and uncomfortable.

Looking down at her companion, the courier's eyes softened awkwardly.

"We should get to sleep. We need to get to the Hidden Valley tomorrow."

"What's there?" He asked, taking a drag of the smoke only to ash it in an empty bottle of Sarsaparilla.

"Brotherhood of Steel." She told him flatly, placing the bottle on the side table before lying down beside him. She rolled to face him, resting her arm under her head to curl her fingers around her chin.

"Something's bothering you." He stated simply, earning him a sly smile from the girl.

"Oh, is there now?" She asked, curiously leaning on the palm of her hand. He shifted his position to face her, giving her a blank look.

"Yes."

"Is that a '_please tell me what you're thinking Annie_'?" She teased, leaning over to softly swat his forearm. The contact seemed only natural now. He sent her a look that made her grin widely, spirits lifted by the man who was almost casually trying to read her mind. "Alright, well, okay, if you insist…"

She sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "House wants me to blow up the Brotherhood's bunker in the Hidden Valley. No exceptions." She started, gauging his reaction quietly. Nothing, as she expected. "But, the thing is, I don't want to. But the only way around it is to kill House, and if I do that then I inherit Fantasy Land… Yes Man is pushing for it but—but I don't want the responsibility."

"Sometimes you have to step up and take responsibility." He told her after a moment of thought, checking her big eyes for any sort of hostility. All he received was a sullen eye roll.

"Why me, though? Why _me_? I don't want this. I want my own life."

"If you believe in fate, then you would know that sometimes decisions get made for you." He snapped his eyes from hers, staring up at the whitewashed ceilings with a dead look on his face.

Annie leant over to take a look at the man she had attached herself to, taking in his cleanly shaven face with one of disappointment.

"Why did you shave?"

"What?" He asked, turning his head to catch her hand on his cheek. The warmth from her palm was worth a thousand suns, collecting in his blood stream to send jets of it through his body. It had been a while since she had touched him so personally, only reserving those moments for when they were leaving each other for a while.

"I liked the little shadow thing you had going on. Really gritty, like one of those men from a scarlet novel." Her eyes were glassy with a soft sort of something that only used to appear when she teased him.

"Not what I'm aiming for." He took her hand from his cheek and placed it down in front of her. "Are you changing the subject?"

"Maybe, but only because I don't want to make a decision right now." She grinned at him, eyes trailing over the soft skin of his underarms. He was wearing his bedclothes; a musty old shirt and an old pair of pants that he had to retire due to lack of space left to patch. "I'd still like to believe that I have some sort of control over my own life."

Annie had stolen a nightgown from their room at the Lucky 38 – not an entirely sexy piece at all. It was one of those ugly old floral things that reminded Boone of something his mother would like, bunched at the shoulders and dropping on her body like a potato sack. The courier squirmed too much to fulfil the duties of a matronly old woman, curving the garment over her hips to give her a rosy silhouette that he hadn't really noticed. If she rolled onto her stomach it would give him an equal view of the grey cotton underwear that he had his hands tangled into a similar pair only days before.

He also had to stop thinking about the girl in such a light – remembering back to when he had almost lost his mind thinking about what he could do to her. It happened in that very room too, eyes darting to the spot on the floorboards where her knees had bruised merrily that night. It was not healthy to have such thoughts after all those months of feeling normal (as close to normal as he could get, anyway) again.

"Is it-…" She started talking again, twisting the sheets between her fingers. "Is it stupid of me to not want to know who I was before?"

"Why do you think that?" He asked, clicking their gazes together to reinstate the odd bond that they had found.

"Because, I was a bad person." Her fingers ran up and down tiredly. "That much I can gather… Like, what if I got shot because it was the universe's way of telling me how much I sucked?"

"It must not hate you too much if you survived it." He responded, attempting to lighten her mood. It wasn't much fun when Annie was just as depressing as he was. "Not many people survive things like that." Her hand absent mindedly reached up to touch the ugly welt, the skin sickeningly soft under her fingers.

In a moment of weakness, the sniper also reached out and brushed her hand out of the way to take his first feel of the destruction the bullet left on her brain. It was a weird sensation, his fingers running from clean bone to the scar tissue that layered the hole that drove straight through her brain. He wondered what part of her went missing when it tore through.

His thumb swiped the sore one last time before returning his hand to his torso, watching as the courier let one last savouring shudder run through her body. No one had touched her that personally in a while, the wound a sensitive subject to her. The man who had gifted the bullet was dead and all she was left with was a sickly reminder of what he had done to her. Boone didn't like the way she looked at him when she opened her eyes again.

She seemed morally drained, brown eyes falling back to the bed sheets before giving him one last fleeting look.

"Your turn to turn the light off." She mumbled, covering her head wound with her palm subconsciously. He gave her a light scoff before pulling himself up, slapping the light switch off with his flat palm. By the time he returned to the bed she had her eyes closed, arms wrapped around her pillow to curl towards the middle.

The pillow wall they usually built between them lay abandoned that night, the two collecting each other's body warmth with nothing to separate them. Annie was grateful to be able to return to a double bed with Boone, having ached for it for an entire week earlier. She wanted to wrap herself around his sleeping body and lay there for moments on end. He wanted to be able to turn his mind off and touch her again, this time softer and longer – savour the goose bumps that would rise from her arms as his fingers would roam. But neither did anything.

They slept soundly that night – the best night's sleep they had gotten in days.


	27. Chapter 27

**hello guys! i'm sorry this took so long - my country's been getting a lot of rain and because of that my internet (and phone) were lost for a day and now it's generally being a fuck ass and won't connect to any pages and it's just made me so irritated so i haven't been writing at all.**

**and then this happened. i'm sorry, it got a little long (by my standards anyway) some day soon i may need a beta because if i keep writing high then you're going to get a lot more chapters like this one.**

Piledriver Waltz - Alex Turner

* * *

Veronica was weeping silently at a black jack table in the foyer of the Lucky 38.

"I'm sorry." Annie said, her hands so cold against the green felt. The scribe didn't respond, her hands cupping and harvesting whatever tears fell to collect them in her palms. The courier's shoulders sagged. "I'm really sorry… I didn't want to do it, I just can't… I just can't-"

The room was warm like the sands outside, but everything Annie managed to grab was cold as ice. The room was dark except for her one table, the overhead light buzzing with electricity without a plastic guard. The energy hummed openly above their heads, shadowing Veronica's sad face with ugly patches of black.

"Sometimes people have to stand up and take responsibility." Boone had his hand on Annie's shoulder, his body close behind her. Veronica's sobs were harsher than she imagined they would be. "I just had my rifle with me. Just me… against all of them." His breath was warm on her ear, sending bumps up her bare arms.

The Brotherhood Scribe stopped crying and turned from them, standing up before shifting to leave. Annie grabbed for her but fell short, a hand on her wrist drawing it back to her chest. "Veronica, wait!"

"All of this was only ever going to play out one way…." Boone let her go and turned her around to face him, soft hips holding her in place against the polished wood of the table lining. "So… I took the shot." The way his eyes reflected hers was sad – she could actually feel the pain that was radiating from him. He reached up and tucked the hair from her forehead, giving him a prime view of the welt he was suddenly so interested in.

"You're talking crazy." She told him, turning her face away but keeping his between her hands. His cheeks were as hot as the Mojave sun under her hands; the fingers shuddering individually with the chilling cold that ran through her limbs. Her digits drew themselves to his beret, tracing over the soft skull patch before returning to her gaze to his. His eyes were brown, and furious.

"You said you wouldn't fucking tell anyone!" Manny grabbed her wrists and held them to her stomach, thrusting at her with thick thighs to keep her from struggling. Boone's face had darkened and shaped into the round face of his partner. "You fucking promised me..!"

His eyes were suddenly soft and scared, his thick scraggly black hair sticking to his sweat-caked face that had cracked angrily under the desert sun. "He doesn't know anything- He doesn't, Manny, I swear-" Her voice died in her throat and she choked at the impact of his fist to her nose. The crunching of the cartilage ran her blood cold. The shock threw her head back to loll on her shoulders, her entire face grimacing in pain as she tried to find her bearings.

He flipped her over and she sputtered over the green velvet, blood specking the painted white lines every time she exhaled through her stinging nose. The spatters sunk into the fabric, staining it with ugly copper welts that stuck to the board like sickly fridge magnets. He could feel his hands – not Manny's (too big) – run up and down her sides to dip off at her ass over the bundles of fabric from her dress.

He pressed her against the hard wood, an erection building through his dirty old jeans as his hands snaked up to her throat and took it in his huge hands. Straightening her posture with the butt of the other on her lower back, Annie's head was placed on his shoulder as his mouth drained miserably down her neck.

"Anna" A new voice muttered into the soft skin of her neck, hiking the folds of her dress up her back. The hand on her throat drifted down her torso, tucking itself happily into the front of her underwear. A thick finger slipped between her legs and ran itself over her clit, earning a groan from the befuddled girl.

He seized her suddenly and flipped her back around, forcing her ass onto the table as he tugged her panties off with one hand. She finally caught the face of her assailant, hidden by layers of beautiful, long blond hair that had fallen from the tied bunch at his neck.

"Chance… Oh." She reached to grab his face and he fell between her legs, adjusting himself with a thick palm before entering her harshly. Annie's head spun as her nose drooled blood into her mouth, his hands finding a clump of her hair to pull her head back.

"You never let me look at you when I fuck you." His voice was a soft growl. He thrust into her, tugging her closer with his fixed grip as her gasps escaped her aching throat. He fucked her for a moment, churning hatred between them. It was nearly painful, the way he held her tightly to his own body, her groans slinking up her gorge and bursting through the sickly gobs of blood that coated her lips. Her fingers felt like they were going to snap off on his hips, almost burning with the chill that had begun to soak up her arms.

"You don't sound too happy to be here, dolly." He spoke again, Benny's smooth voice sending sickening vibes down her ear canal. His chequered coat was folded nicely over the back of the chair beside them, his tie loosened around his neck. "Baby – you're disappointing me." He held her to him like a rag doll, his clean-shaven jaw digging into her shoulder like a bone wedge. The smell of his cigarettes made her gag, her hands scrabbling for the knife she kept strapped to her thigh.

His strong grip stopped her as he bounced between her thighs, each pound bruising the soft flesh of her ass. Her entire body was revolted at the feeling of him twitching inside of her, attempting to dig her fingernails into his shoulders as some sort of self-defence. He was far too strong for her to push away, the man like a heavy statue that needed to be dug out of the ground further.

Something clanked behind him, like metal footsteps slowly crunching towards them. Catching a glance over his shoulder, Annie winced at the sight of FISTO, who was powering towards them on stubby little legs. The fear that ran through the courier turned her blood ice-cold. She never did like that robot.

"Assume the position." House's voice reverberated through the abandoned foyer. Annie clung to Benny as tightly as she could, the man groaning into her neck as the robot clanked beside them. It's usually empty face burnt with the image of House, his handsome pre-war face glowing a soft light over them in the dark room. "No excuses."

Veronica's powerfist emerged from the darkness and crushed the bot's head, the shriek of steel against steel tearing through Annie's eardrums as the young scribe began to lay into the Father of New Vegas. Veronica's sobs were louder than the grinding metals, Annie's eyes wide as Benny's breath in her ear began to quicken.

Her head turned back to push him away, praying he wouldn't come inside of her. "No, please don—" She started, finding herself caught in Boone's startling blue eyes once more. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as he came with a grunt in her ear. They were still for a moment, his warm shoulders under her fingers that burnt with blossoms of heat every time her grip tightened.

Hands swept up to wipe the blood from her face, his thumb on her lip when he kissed her sore nose.

He lay her softly on the table as he pulled out, running his rough fingers down her frame to tug her dress back down to a respectable length. She leant up on her elbows to gawk at him, watching him reach up to push the hair from her forehead. She stared up at him with big eyes.

"Don't you want us anymore, is that it?" A blond woman had replaced Veronica, her bare fists bloody on the jagged pieces of robot. Annie snapped her neck towards the voice, out of breath as she fought to put a name to the face. The woman's cheeks were streaked with red sand, eyes wild with hurt and wrists wrapped with red cloth. "Aren't we good enough for you?"

* * *

Boone woke to Annie shoving things hurriedly into her bag. They were scheduled to wake in two hours, but her heavy footsteps on the hollow rot wood floors had roused him prematurely.

"Anna?" He asked as he sat up, squinting into the darkness. He focused in on the light from her pipboy. Catching her quick glance from afar, he watched her freeze.

"You're usually such a heavy sleeper…" She huffed, finally standing up to flick on the light. The bright shocked his eyes and he squinted more, blinking to ease the pain. "I'm just getting ready for the walk today."

"The walk." He said flatly, caving in and simply shutting his eyes. He didn't see her grin at him.

"We're taking a side detour for me, but that's okay because you don't have to come if you don't want to."

"Where to?" He brushed his face with his wrist, eyes opening cautiously. "And why two hours before?"

"Had a really fucking weird dream." She rubbed the back of her head, frizzing the black mess. Annie could almost feel his lips on her nose, her hand reaching up to touch it for the fiftieth time that morning. "And Red Rock."

"Red Rock?" He asked. "You said you didn't want to go."

"No, I have to go." She headed towards the bed to plonk down next to him. "Call me morbid, call me tribal, but that dream told me I should go." Her eyes seemed bigger, if that was possible, staring up at him with that same fire that seemed far past smothered. The way that her eyes scrutinised every part of his face, logging every little detail into her brain, made him uncomfortable. She looked as wild as when he first found her.

"This feels like a bad idea." He warned and she nodded and shrugged but took his knee in her hands.

"But you can't stop me." She told him, fingers lurching up his thighs. He grabbed her wrists and held them in her lap. It didn't stop her from leaning over to him, nose to nose, with that stupid grin on her face.

"Anna." He said.

"Hmm." She looked away and leant back, shaking him free only to spring up to relieve the energy. "No, I have to go." He watched her as she paced across the room for a moment, stopping to sit back down beside him. "But you don't. I understand if you don't."

"You're talking crazy." He mumbled at her, watching her flounder for a response. The girl froze for a moment, her body dumped into the familiar feeling of déjà vu.

"Don't take the wind out of my sails, Boone." She pushed away from him for the third straight time. He sent her a look, although it was not as menacing when he was wrapped up in sheets. "Whatever that means."

"You haven't slept by the looks of you."

"I have! I had that ridiculous dream and I just couldn't go back to sleep while that was still in my mind." She was already half in her armour, one sock away from a full set of shoes. He could read the pitches in her voice as she spoke about her experiences, subconsciously flicking on his 'loving husband' switch.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He grunted and her incredulous look fell on him like a tonne of bricks. She slipped off her shoe with primed toes, and she crawled over to him.

"Are you sure you want to hear it?" She asked, resting on her knees and legs curiously. Boone never really asked the personal things – it was always Annie prying into _his _life.

"I suppose." He lay back down to get comfortable – a go-ahead marker for Annie to show he was relaxing with the awkward subject. Boone didn't play best girl friend for Annie; it was supposed to be the other way around. But the courier seemed flustered.

Her weight slipped between her legs and she sat comfortably on the bed, swinging her feet around to cross them around each other. "I destroyed Veronica's life and she killed House for me, all while I was having sex on one of those gambling tables." Boone blinked lazily at her.

"Alright..?"

Her face eased into a frown, finding it hard to force out the words than she had originally anticipated. She had been practising for moments where she could drag all the blood to his cheeks, but for some reason a little thing called 'shame' was clogging her throat.

"Okay… so at first it was just you and me at the table- not like that, calm yourself... You were saying weird things-"

"Weird how?"

"You were talking about your wife, but it didn't sound right." She caught his curious look. "But it was just you, me and Veronica…" She explained the rest of her dream in detail (as much detail as she could afford to spend) and pondered each origin of the facial expressions he would pull. He openly grimaced at the mention of Manny, and grew stony around Benny, but her voice died in her throat before she could finish with him finishing.

Would it be weird for him to know that she dreamt about him in such a personal way? Annie didn't find it uncomfortable at all – in fact it just fuelled the aching fires in her heart to take him as her own and use him until the end of their days. But Boone was different to her, and that's what made it too hard. She couldn't risk him having a minor freak out and his boot steps through the door would probably cause her to tear her ears off.

"And then when it, uh, finished, I saw a woman in Khans' leather beating the shit out of the House-FISTO hybrid. She looked at me and said 'Aren't we good enough for you?'"

If Boone had taken all of his dreams as literally as Annie did he probably would have killed himself a long time ago.

"There's some spooky shit in that dream and I think it wants me to go back to Red Rock."

There grew a minor panic in the back of Boone's brain. At first it was a shocked whisper, but as Annie began to talk deeper the idea began to warp like a siren, barreling heavy thoughts into the spotlight. If they were to go to Red Rock, there would be a substantial settlement of very resentful Khans. Khans whose family he almost definitely murdered.

Annie was going to find out about Bitter Springs earlier than he had planned to. She said she could wait but apparently she couldn't, teasing all the effort he had put into keeping the memory hidden behind times he had read as slightly happier ones. He felt so selfish imagining a world where she never had to know about it.

The situation was no longer an 'I don't want to talk about it', turning hurriedly into a 'I want to but I _can't_ talk about it' the more he realised that he liked having her around. He deserved the fiery depths of hell and still he could not stop himself from liking the fact that she existed. It was a terrible, terrible thought but if he weren't so sickeningly greedy it wouldn't have felt so good.

The more he thought about it, laid back on their bed with his eyes closed, the dirtier he felt. Why should he even bother caring about another person if all that was left for him was the dark descent into whatever crippling afterlife he found? The most he could hope for was his triumphant death on top of a mountain of red – a goal of which had been abandoned for a long time. _Why_? Because he tried to fight fate? There was no fighting fate, not for him anyway.

The courier was looking down at his stormy face with soft eyes, feeling that he had drifted off into some sort of internal nightmare. She never liked when he turned himself off – it made his eyes steely and cold like they used to be - a man on a mission. Boone had successfully taken the wind out of Annie's sails without even trying – the girls mild hysterics dampened by Boone's dead-brain blanket. There was no room for her to misbehave when her only guardian was fighting an intramural war.

Boone knew that if they were to return to Bitter Springs, the best thing for him to do would be find Gillies and her death, and then find his own. That would be the only real way for him to go, after what he had done – all the lives he had destroyed, including those of his wife and unborn child. This whole thing spawned from his mistakes, and he obviously had no self-control to stop him from doing it again. The thought churned his stomach sick.

"Hey," Annie cooed at him, reaching out to rub his shin "you look like you're going to die. Stop it."

He opened his eyes to catch her stare, remembering how soft she looked in the dank lights of the Wrangler's rooms. He hated that he thought that.

"Go to Red Rock alone." He told her curtly, probably sounding angrier than he really was. "I have something else to do."

"Oh." Annie never expected him to reject her. All he did was follow her around like a lost but irritated puppy. "Alright. Okay, when are you going?"

"Wednesday morning."

Boone was going to travel to Cottonwood Cove first, and he was going to take down as many Legionaries as possible. He owed that to Carla, and he owed it to his child, and even if he got himself killed he knew he would be going out the right way. Those sons of bitches wouldn't even see him.

"I suppose I can stay for another day…" Annie squeaked, looking miserably at their half packed bags. It was foolish of her to assume he would jump through whatever hoops she held – no matter how small. "Rest up and what not… I am a little tired."

"Alright." He replied tiredly, knowing he wouldn't get anymore sleep that night. He kept his eyes closed anyway. She slinked off the bed towards the wall, melting against the switch to turn it off. Crawling back, she curled up beside him and took his forearm in her hands.

"Stop thinking yourself stupid." She gave him one last pat and rolled onto her back, staring up at the stained ceiling as they both strayed from sleep.

* * *

They spent the next day drinking up a tab at the Wrangler. Neither was near drunk but the buzz they found from a shared bottle of liquor made them happier about their decisions to part ways.

James Garret always found it a game to find out everything he could about the two wanderers. It was more exciting than pressing Beatrix to work, and definitely more entertaining than the ugly old ghoul that called himself a comedian (the man brought in the caps but some nights it was just not worth it). Annie and Boone were his favourite tenants because every so often James Garret would get the news before anyone else.

And because the courier had a mouth like a deep abyss, he would not allow anyone to hurt them. Three times he had stopped (only with a fierce look, no real bravery included) a disgruntled resident from sticking a knife into the sniper's back, and four times he stopped strange men from putting little tablets into the girl's drink. Even when someone lurked outside their bedroom door for too long was he up there, sending them back down to the bar with the proposal of a beer – for only 1 cap, a special offer just for them.

Annie and Boone were not exactly the best people, but in saying that they certainly were not the worst. The courier refused to work too closely to the NCR, noted Garret, but what was even weirder was how attached she was to the man she kept. She hated the Legion though, and that was something that wasn't kept quiet in the Freeside casino.

The sniper had something wrong with him – that was without a doubt. He seemed to carry a little bit more hatred than the girl could muster, but that being said he _was_ an ex-soldier. James could bet he was at Bitter Springs whenever what happened there went down.

"So where are you two off to tomorrow?" He asked curiously, leaning on the bar between them. The two looked at each other tiredly and the girl sighed.

"Separate ways." She told the barman. "For now."

"Now I wouldn't have thought you two would split up."

"Eesh, Garret. I said it was only for now." Annie stared up at him from behind her hair. "Don't make me feel bad."

"Now don't feel bad." He placed her glass back in front of her, emptying whatever was left in the bottle. "You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Explains why I love to come back to this shit hole, huh?"

"Finest shit hole this side of Freeside, woman." The man pointed his finger at her and she grinned at him from over her glass. "They also say that absinthe makes the heart grow stronger – care to try?"

"You just want my caps, you filthy old man." Boone watched the courier in giggle fits of whiskey. "It's far too early for your devil water, James, what do you want?" She asked, leaning on her elbows to look up at him. The sniper adjusted his feet in the rungs of the stool.

"Oh, I don't want anything." He returned to cleaning the glasses. "It's just a thrill knowing things before the radio does. Can't help it if you're the Mojave flavour of the month."

"Us?" Annie asked.

"No, you." The man sighed exasperatedly. "Don't you listen to the old box?"

"Not what you're listening to." She looked over at Boone, who stared blankly back. Annie kept her pipboy radio on during the day as they walked but it was always that twangy channel that played the same ten songs over and over. "And why not Boone? He does all the damn work around here."

"You've got a sweeter face," James grinned at her "no offense buddy… but you know how the world gets over a pretty girl." He swung Boone a free drink. The sniper took it and shrugged, agreeing with the other man.

"It's true."

"What, so the whole damn desert thinks I'm a hero?"

"You're no hero, woman, but you're getting there." The Garret leant under the bar to turn the radio up, sending smooth jazzy words over the entire room. "I don't believe you've never listened to Radio New Vegas."

"Oh… Well yes, of course I have. But the man on the station talked too much and it gave me a headache after, you know, the hole in the head." She mumbled, flicking through her pipboy unhappily. "Tuned to Mojave Music and never turned back. Now, what are they saying about me?"

"Well I can tell you all about that 'lake monster' you've recently pulled out of Lake Mead."

"Really?" Annie asked, irritated. "How?"

"People talk."

"City people." Annie tsk'd. "You know what's good about being a tribal?"

"Do tell." James cleaned his glass curiously.

"If someone's talking stick about you, especially on such a wide scale, you can literally beat the shit out of them for it. The cuts and bruises may fade but humiliation lasts forever. That I remember." She kicked herself off of the stool. "None of this casino etiquette shit I keep hearing about."

She wasn't too comfortable with her situation. How could she have been so naïve about the residents she talked to? They devoted radio airtime to her exploits – House must know by now what exactly she was doing. There was nowhere she was safe.

If House knew what she was doing, the Legion must have known too. The NCR as well! The whole Mojave- the _whole _Mojave.

This is what she meant when she said she didn't want any part of Vegas business. There was something so lovely about being in the open air, where no one could hear you scream. In that shit hole of a desert city laid the most embarrassing, heart-breaking and irritating life that one could live and she was utterly destined to stay there forever.

What were they saying? That she was the saviour of the wastes? She could barely keep on her feet for more than a month at a time without being stabbed or something just as devastating. Thanks to the radio people expected her to _do _things. It was no longer a situation solely based around who will rule New Vegas, but who will rule the Mojave. Annie didn't want the damn Mojave – Annie just wanted to do her own thing.

Returning her face to her pillow, accompanied with a watered-down bottle of vodka, she marked all the small towns on her pipboy – the ones she never wanted to see before she had gotten trapped in Vegas. If they wanted her to make a difference, then she was going to do it her way.


	28. Chapter 28

**You know that kind of writers block where your mind literally thinks of everything else other than writing and it's like 'I don't even care about writing anymore just let me play video games'**

**And then I fell victim to societal pressures and downloaded some Lana Del Rey, and call it lame as hell but I'm back. Let me know what you think of this part because I know it's getting a little more serious now, and I'd like to see how I'm doing in this whole spectrum. Thank you!**

_Summertime Sadness, Blue Jeans _and _Gods and Monsters _by Lana Del Rey

* * *

In the few milliseconds between when Boone opened the door and when he stepped into the room, Annie's mind fell down the muddy slope to dead brain. Whatever bottle the Garret Twin had given her was not his usual watered down bullshit that he often swung her – it had to be a decent quality, top shelf liquor. It even had a label.

The sniper found his partner dewy-eyed, curled up around her bottle with her boots twisted in each other.

For whatever it was worth, in the half an hour separating their individual arrival in the Wrangler room that night, Annie had thought up a semi-decent plan to get herself around the wasteland without Boone. The idea of her man leaving her left a screaming bleached canyon in her brain, bristling with white noise every time the thought got too serious. She forced it out of her head in fear that her ears would bleed.

First she would get back to Goodsprings and talk to the residents, then head down to Primm to figure out what the hell was happening there. There were no more lurking fears of getting shot under the unstable rollercoaster, and if she decided to loop around and pick up Veronica then she would be set for safety. She would stay out of Legion territory, but attempt to pick at the small towns littered across the wastes.

If the people of the Mojave thought Annie was all they wanted to know about, she would do everything in her power to know just as much about them as they did her. It was not hard to get the information she needed, considering everyone had his or her price. She would find out whatever made that damn desert tick, and use that knowledge to set it up to the best of her ability.

She was coming to terms with the fact that she had been given the one chance at the sword in the stone, finding a halting epiphany halfway through the bottle. It was the only logical explanation, and as Boone had told her only days before; _sometimes people have to stand up and take responsibility. _It was such a Boone thing to say.

Returning to find the courier glassy-eyed was like walking into the eeriest parts of hell. A quiet Annie was never a good Annie; he had learnt this the hard way. Either she was planning some devious seduction plan (he had seen the way she had been looking at him lately) or was melding into whatever character flaw she had developed in her time of being a gang fiend.

He stood and stared at her for a moment, letting a breath out of his nose as a pressure release. There were so many notions running in his head on how to handle the situation – he had seen how rattled she had gotten about Radio New Vegas. He hadn't thought it an issue; the news stories never too informative just cluey.

Her eyes melted when she registered his colour pallette. "Hey," she purred lazily "thought you'd… be up sooner."

His joints unlocked at her words, springing him back into his before-bed routine. "Figured you wanted some space." He told her as he tugged off his shirt, folding it gently before placing it on a bookshelf. The sniper could feel her eyes on him as he unbuckled his belt, looping the leather carefully around the back of a chair. He caught her gaze as he tucked his thumbs in the waistband. "What?"

She shook her head.

"How long are you leaving me?" She itched her nose with a pinch, slipping over sloppily to her side of the bed. He joined her as soon as he felt decent, turning off the light before dragging his legs under the covers beside hers. She curled towards him, one hand stabilising herself as she wobbled like a trestle in the wind.

"I don't have an exact schedule." He said truthfully, his words not sating the girl one bit. She leant over and placed her free hand in the gap between his legs, straining the dirty sheets over his thighs.

"I think we should meet up- in Novac again… like the last time…" She grinned tiredly at him, the man taking to to the idea of a drunk Annie. She seemed like a healthy pacifist, all warm smiles and no bad vibes. He'd never had the pleasure of seeing her drunk on anything other than adrenalin. "My room… when either one of us is done we- we wait until the other gets back."

"If you say so." He said, reaching for her intrusion.

"Leave it." She shushed him, freeing her foundation to smack his hand away. Her elbow bent and she took his shoulder to steady her dying frame. There was a level of drunk that took Annie to the land of heavy limbs, her head basically an abandoned coconut filled with frothed milk. "Let me- let me do it." She took the other arm and held it around his neck, swinging from him like a jungle child.

"Anna." His one-worded sternness generally won her over but this time she just gave the same smashed grin. "I think it's time for bed."

"I know you like the back-… of my hand, _Boone_, I know you're going to do go do something stupid. It's reeking from your skin." He couldn't see her clearly in the dark, but the light that seeped in from under their door made the courier's eyes wide and shiny. Boone could feel her breath on his chin, her forehead sloppily pressed against his nose. "If you die without me I want to at least know I've _touched_ you."

His torso tensed with the awkward thought and he steadied her by her elbows, allowing her to tighten her arms around his neck. She buried herself in his collarbone, greeted with the rough cotton bedtime singlet. Her quiet words trekked up his jaw; skin prickling happily at her muttering lips under his ear.

"Are you done?" He asked after barely a minute. She shifted and found his gaze again, eyes glazed but still strangely present.

"Why won't you let me touch you?" She asked. "Why does it make you so weird?"

When he didn't answer she leant back, fixing his nose with hers. Their foreheads fell together and they were suddenly quite close. He could smell the strong alcohol on her breath, tinged with guilt at her probable response for the next morning. He was going to leave and she was going to roll around in bed with a hangover – it was like a sad movie in his mind.

"No, really—fuck you." She grunted, pushing away and over-balancing a little. He caught her again, steadying her back onto his shoulder. "You can't be so—so handsome all the time and not-… expect anything from it."

She never really understood how much it pained him to say no to her. There were moments when he wanted to step outside his fears with reckless abandon and destroy her like every man would, but he couldn't. He physically couldn't.

"You made love to me in my dream last night." She told him, her fingers tickling the sensitive spots on the back of his neck. Goosebumps burst at her words, her skin like fire on his own. He wanted so desperately to push her away – to get up and _walk away_. It was getting too surreal for it to be safe anymore. He was almost glad he was leaving for a while. "You were there and you—you were so nice to me. I'm sorry. I'm really drunk. I shouldn't be saying these things but—but I can't stop talking. It's like my lungs are leaking."

Her arms tightened and her body shuddered as she buried herself closer into him.

"I don't want anything from you because I know I make you miserable." She kept on, muttering only just loud enough for him to hear. In an effort to calm her down he put a stiff arm on her back. "Just come back because I'm going to miss you so much."

And then she planted a small kiss on the soft skin of his neck and he froze for a slight moment – finding every last ounce of strength in his body to attempt to pry her from him. He held her biceps in his hands for a moment as he tried to scrutinize her under the low light, but his tired eyes could only find the sheen of her hair. He finally laid her down on her side of the bed, tucking her head onto the pillow before pulling the sheets up over her chest.

"I'll say goodbye." He promised, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze. "I'll wake you up before I go." She took his grip and stole it for her own, wrapping his fingers between hers like a healthy bed.

"If I wake up and you've left, I'll be just miserable as you." She fought to find his silhouette through her blurry vision. "At least leave a note."

* * *

_Annie,_

_Woke you to say goodbye but you were too tired to talk. Told you I'd try. Don't know how long I'll be, don't have an answer why. Sorry. _

_There are things I haven't told you. Should have. If you find out without me then I'm sorry. Should have told you. I hope you can forgive me. _

_Never really told you how I feel about you either, don't know myself. Can't write it down - wish I could. Think you sort of understand, though. You're good at that._

_Everybody's got a road to walk. Mine's a bit shorter. Hope yours doesn't end._

_You don't have to stay in Vegas forever. _

_Craig._

* * *

He wasn't expecting to come out of it alive.

Men lay groaning in the hot summer air, their wounds festering as tiny flies crawled into ugly crevices to make their homes. Whatever blood had seeped from wounds had begun to collect in the sand, pooling into a sick looking lake in the middle of the small cove hideout. It had even begun to drip into the water, stirring up a rogue fleet of lakelurks at the smell of the filthy liquid.

He'd managed to free the family of slaves that were rotting in the holding pen as well, and although their eyes were wide with fear they thanked him for their lives.

The sniper found the spot where the slave-selling platform used to sit, where Carla had once stood, wishing for a packet of matches and a bottle of turpentine to put the heaving cove out of it's dithering misery. Word would spread of his message to Caesar, and the man would cry for his head, but that was all to be expected.

Boone hadn't anticipated finally driving his machete through the plates in the centurion's armour. The realisation hit him like a train. There was a sensation running through his body, better than any chem he had ever come close to trying – better than anything else he had ever felt. All the pent up rage and confusion over his life had turned a once thriving Legion camp into a literal bloodbath, his clothes soaked from beret to boot lace.

The man picked off the recruits first, managing to pile up a decent amount of bodies before they figured out where he was. The sad-souls who died first never even saw him, which was slightly disappointing in his plan for total destruction. Boone ended up sliding down the rock face to take on the bigger men with his beautifully sharpened machete, revelling in the thrill of his enemies gurgling to death under his boot heel. He had gone into an ugly, vengeful massacre and he returned scratched up but alive. The man had to sit down in the sand and think to himself.

He had a final cigarette in his pants pocket, fishing it out to find the rotting cardboard logged with blood. The stick inside lay unharmed, faded caramel paper stuck with tobacco stains. Stale cigarettes didn't do much, but he wasn't fond of the ugly Strip packets Annie would bring home. There was character in the old life.

This wasn't how he imagined his plan to fold out. Even his hands were shaking as he salvaged his last match, striking it on the case to savour the crackle of flames before sadly shaking it out. The sun was going down over the lake and he remembered the glow of Annie's hair in the warm light.

He sighed almost comically. "Well, shit."

* * *

_Boone,_

_You havnt come back yet and thats okay because i know youll make it when you can_

_When i do see you though i will absolutely and definitely beat the shit out of you. Their will be no denying or fighting it because i have all the ground to stand on. i dont care if your half dead when i find you because i will kick you within a inch of your life and than nurse you back to health so i can do it again._

_Than we are gonna to talk about what youve supposedly done. We are going to sort this out. _

_Food in the fridge, water in the medical box. _

_Annie._

* * *

It took all his strength to pull himself up the rickety railing of the Dino-Delite motel stairs. He had only packed enough food for the trip to Cottonwood, and when it came to the whole 'surviving' thing he was stuck raiding the mottled corpses of Legion Soldiers. He wasn't too happy with the idea of healing powder and grubby bandages but they were all he could salvage for the time.

It was an equally as thrilling walk back to Novac from Cottonwood, hounded by a stray gang of geckos that didn't want to attack. He was almost humbled by the trip, although finding slight irony in the fact that the last time he took that trip he returned without a wife or a care. Now he had a clear head, a clear mind – more room to think about the future.

He was sure that if Carla had seen what he had just done, she would have been mortally horrified. There was an ounce of sadness for her probable reaction, but he knew she would have understood why.

Boone returned to Annie's room with a quiet push of key, letting himself in to collapse his knees on the bed. He read her note with sleepy eyes, rolling onto his back to take off his glasses to get the full impact of Annie's handwriting. It was like a child had scrawled a suicide note with his mother's eyebrow pencil.

Past the point of hungry and really just feeling sick to the stomach, Boone chose to lay still for a while, counting the stains on the ceiling to pass the ugly feeling in his stomach. He couldn't be bothered to reach for the fridge or the medicine box, his body zapped of all other energy. He had walked for so long – a nap wouldn't hurt… surely he would survive another few hours...

He woke to a sharp pain in his right arm, a woman's hand pressing down on his bicep to keep him still. His eyes found the hooded face of Veronica, the scribe pushing a stimpack into a slight bullet graze he had previously bandaged. The woman leapt back when she watched his eyes fight themselves open, the man groggy and nauseated as he swayed to sit up.

"Sorry buddy, thought you were out cold." The woman said gingerly, leaning into the desk chair she had pulled up. There was darkness leaking through the boarded windows, the small room lit up with a dying light bulb. "Annie! He's awake."

"About fucking time." The courier's voice sounded from the kitchenette. His gaze dragged to her small form, up the ripped stockings to find her stern glance. Annie turned to face him, her face darker from the sun and unfortunately pulled into a disappointed look. "Hey there, handsome. Where've you been?"

The woman pushed a bowl of stew at him, curling up at his feet to pull off his shoes. The porcelain was heavy in his hands, arms straining to put it gently onto his thighs to soak up the lukewarm heat seeping from the ceramic. Veronica was already pulling up his pant legs to check for any other damage, sighing unhappily at the plethora of bloody patches.

"Bit sloppy, don't you think?" The courier asked when he didn't respond, tugging the other boot off. "Could have at least cracked open a bottle of whiskey to dull the pain." The man rubbed his eyes, the smell of the stew completely overwhelming him.

"Can we take your pants off?" The scribe asked, earning a grin from the courier. "I promise I won't look."

"Su-" He had to clear his throat of sleepy debris, swallowing awkwardly. "Sure."

Annie looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to unbuckle his belt. Pulling it free of the loops, he passed it to the brunette to fold over the back of her chair.

"When'd you get back?" The older woman asked, tucking at the ankles of his pants as he shifted to free them. The rough cotton slipped over his thighs, bundled up by the courier and abandoned on the floor. Veronica made quick work of his wounds, tsk'ing at the damage.

"This morning." He answered, placing his bowl onto the old sheets to take a small spoonful.

"Well that can't be right considering that's when we got here." Annie slapped his foot with a calming palm. "Guess you've been out for a day or so." She did not sound happy with him, her stern but worried tone reminiscent of Carla's when he used to dip into PTSD. _No more of this Craig, please. __**Please. **_

"Sorry."

"It's alright." She got up and snatched her pack of cigarettes from the counter, lighting one quietly while she shot a look to her female counterpart.

"I'm out of here." Veronica quickly retreated from his bandages. "I want to check out that dinosaur."

"Seeya." Annie waved her goodbye, the scribe stepping out of the door so Annie could slink back to the bed. She crawled over the tough mattress, slipping down next to him. Watching him suddenly inhale his food, her eyes glossed over with a sick curiosity. "I see you went and had fun without me."

"Not going to beat the shit out of me?" He tested between mouthfuls, suddenly thrown into the situation where he had to explain his cryptic 'goodbye' note.

"Not yet. Where'd you go?"

"Cottonwood."

"Killed them all, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Reckless." She huffed at him, pushing her hair to one shoulder. "Not like you."

"Wasn't expecting to come back."

"Figured as much." Annie rested her hand on his bare thigh. "How many?"

"Thirty-four or so."

"_Thirty-four_?" Her grip tightened, fear highlighting her eyes.

"I can't explain how." He shook his head. "Don't know myself."

"You feel better now?" Annie asked, eyes flickering to the noise of his spoon clattering in an empty bowl.

"A little." He pushed himself up, staggering to full height on his heavy legs. His head was swimming and his was stomach growling.

"How about physically?"

"Much better." It wasn't a lie, the good-feelings from a fresh stimpack pumping through his veins. He cracked open the lock on the medicine box, screwing the lid free from a clean bottle to chug the sterile water. Leaning his forearm on the little box, he pressed back against the wall to take a look at the girl on the bed.

Her brows were furrowed and her eyes were searching his, hands clasped around each other. She would have been the picture of innocence if he didn't already know what she was capable, doe-eyed like a little girl waiting for him to return to bed.

Boone scratched his nose and headed back towards the bed, sitting stiffly beside her as she pulled herself towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he took another sip of his water. They sat comfortably as she sucked up his aura, revelling in the fact that he was still alive and well – albeit very scratched up and sore. Her fingers carefully brushed the soft skin on the back of his neck, holding him as close as possible.

"Don't get used to this." Annie mumbled from her spot on his shoulder, kissing the bare skin on his bicep. He looked down at her and gave her a small smile. She returned it sadly. "And don't ever do that again. Please."


	29. Chapter 29

**I stayed up late to publish this because I've typed all afternoon trying to get this out for you lovely ladies! Sorry this has taken so long (etc, etc, my usual spiel) I hope you can forgive me~ **

* * *

Halfway through Freeside, the courier and her two companions were stopped by a shivering King. The streets were darkening and one could almost see the eerie and menacing glints of knife blades under the streetlights, the fires burning in the slums sending a sick smell of singed garbage over the small city. The old guy who sold ugly-looking chunks of meat was watching them, armed with a cleaver and ready to pounce at any sort of trouble. It was great to be home.

"Whatcha want, man?" Annie had her bag on one shoulder, aching from the hot trip home. All she wanted to do was go back to the 38 and nap a couple of hours, her usual sleeping patterns turned deranged over the past two or so weeks.

"The King wants to see you." The young man (barely even 18) told them sternly, sure of his own superiority only to the point of a voice break at the end. "Important business."

"_Important_." Annie scrubbed her eyes with her fists, groaning out a strained noise. "I _suppose_ I could go." She turned to her followers, the scribe and the sniper waiting patiently with a sort of stoic edge. Even Veronica seemed burnt out. "Boone, take Veronica back home, I'll be there in a while."

"I'll stay." The sniper was not fond of the King's right hand man. Always looked at Annie with a weird eye, his face curious but not innocent. The courier shot him a look, confused at his abrupt rejection.

He'd been 'abrupt' the entire trip, still running hard on the thrill of being alive. After being nursed back to health by the two women, he was slowly coming to terms with the idea of life continuing after 30, his chest swelled solid with accomplishment. There was a great deal of weight lifted from his shoulders, little by little each and every moment he remembered what he had done. He felt better (and although the weight was full it was only a chip off the block), more sure of his situation than he had been the week before.

Maybe that's how Annie felt when she returned home with blazing eyes, free from deep wounds and wound-up by the thrill of simply surviving. He thought about the electricity that would shudder through her when she dug the butt of her sledge from some poor mans chest. He could finally understand and recognise the feeling of knowing that you _are _capable of completely and totally fucking shit up. He hadn't felt like that since he was a teenager, broad-shouldered and still young enough not to really care; picking off raiders on the edge of his mother's property with an ugly old hunting rifle salvaged from the skeletons in the caves up the road.

"Don't you need sleep?" Annie asked sceptically, eyes narrowing at the older man. He gave her a flat look.

"I'll be fine."

"Are you gonna be alright getting back in?" She asked Veronica, dragging her eyes carefully away from Boone's. The scribe blinked back.

"I'm sure I'll manage somehow." The girl creaked. "Need anything?"

"No, get some rest." The courier handed over her key card. "Be safe!" She called, the scribe turning on her heel to head towards the shiny gates.

"Is she going to be okay?" The young man asked, combing his hair back over his ears. The courier sighed tiredly, watching as one of the older Kings joined Veronica's side as a friendly escort.

"She'll be fine." She waved her hand, reaching up to stretch the sleep from her body. "Come on, come on, take us to The King."

Falling instep with each other moments later, Annie and her partner pressed their hands into their pockets in an awkward silence. The two had harboured a brittle feeling between them for the whole trip, the girl's aura more angry than his mellow concern. She was _not _happy with him - that he already knew. He hadn't received the result of her vicious kicks, and he knew for a fact he never would, but in the end he would have preferred that over her simmering upset that tended to leak out her mouth in guilt inducing snaps.

"Oh," Annie looked up at him. "I _probably _should mention that Veronica is living with us now."

"Figured." He looked down at her and caught the reflections of a dingy street in her glass eyes. She had a small grin on her face, eyes flickering with a decent sort of revenge.

"And a couple of others too…" She added slowly, gauging his reaction with the size of her mouth.

His eyes narrowed, hidden by the dark shades. He pulled them from the bridge of his nose, folding them up to slip into his pocket, giving the girl an almost salty look. "How many?"

"Only two." She shook her head. "Not including Veronica."

"And you trusted these people enough to let them into our home?"

"Our _home." _She snorted at him, eyes softening a little at his use of words. "Our home… huh, well, don't you trust my judgement?"

"Not really."

"Oh…" Her eyes flared up. "These people are good people. Owe me a favour or two, so when they offered to follow along I offered them a place to stay." She grit her fists together in a small ounce of anger, fidgeting her knuckles together awkwardly. "Sort of reminds me of someone."

He shot her a look as they entered the King's building, escorted by a leering Pacer to the table of The King himself. Boone was not happy with the way the jittery gangbanger pulled out Annie's chair with a flair of compliments. He'd had an eye on her since he'd decided her fate on the Freeside gates, wooed by the promise of endless caps and spread legs. _Annie would probably be into that too_, Boone thought, sickened by the idea.

"Hello there, sir, how can I be of help today?" Annie slipped into the seat, placing her bag gently behind the chair. She knew she could leave it unattended in the place without someone's sticky fingers dipping between the zips – the Kings were a huge fan of the black-haired bombshell that was ever-so-polite to the older men in leather jackets. She dug around in her armour pockets. "Cigarette?"

The man accepted, taking the offered lighter with a glint in his eye. "Thank you. I apologise for dragging you away from your duties, but I heard you were heading back through…"

"It's no problem." She watched The King survey her huffy partner, the sniper slightly irritated by the girl's sly dig.

"Bringing the heat down on me, hey little girl?" The King eyed the other man quietly, ribbing Annie in jest, the courier returning him a tired but sly smile.

"Hey now, that's my partner you're talking about." She grinned smartly. "His opinions affect my decisions, so it's nice to keep him around. Can't be too careful nowadays." She winked, resting her elbows on the table. "I'm sure you understand, though, considering everyone in the room is packing heat."

"I understand completely." The man leant forward, mimicking her bent elbows. "You look like you need to get back to dream land, girl, so I'll make this quick." He met the girl's eyes. "I want to ask a favour of you. After all the help you've given the Kings, I'm sure you're the perfect person for this job."

"Tell me more." The courier goaded, suddenly interested in the proposition. It stroked her ego to know that someone thought she was good at something – she rarely heard that, and when it was it was something along the lines of 'you're great at getting stabbed', straight from the throat of Arcade.

"My old Rex is sick." The old mans hands pressed the table suddenly. "He needs help."

The girl froze, eyes sliding to stare blankly at the panting robo-dog.

"And..?" She started slowly, hoping for further explanation, her hands winding around each other to press him on. The King's eyes softened in a moment of pure puppy love as he reached down to scratch behind his friend's right ear.

"I need you to find someone who can fix him. Talk to Julie Farkas at the fort – maybe she can help you." He shrugged, hands back to the hardwood. Annie looked at her man and bit her lip, feelings tugged at the idea of a very sad king.

She never liked to see a man upset, the idea uncomfortable with its 'un-masculine' feelings… Boone did it to her too – that's why he had his boot on her back most of the time. The men from her childhood never felt sad, fists always bigger than their fears.

"What do you think, partner?" She whispered the last part, turning to Boone with her mouth in a straight line. He could see the strain in her eyes at the thought of the robot dog, the hybrid's oily joints shining in her timid pupils.

He thought to himself for a moment, resigning into a thought session with the poise of one finger straight up that read 'hold on one moment'. The Kings needed a favour from Annie, and if she said no to this favour_, _then they would lose the trust of the head honcho of Freeside. That would cut them off from the Wrangler and the streets wouldn't be as safe at night…

"We'll do it." He stood up, joined by the man in the white suit.

"Thank you, thank you very much." The King clasped his hand and shook it, Annie standing up a moment later to stare at the interaction blandly. "This is music to my ears, my friends. Thank you."

The courier stared at the sniper with her fingers rubbing her forehead, turning to The King with her cheek tugged down by her screaming nails. She was past the point of keeping civil, swinging on her feet with the exhaustion of the previous week's escapades. Another job to add to the list, just when she thought she was getting on top of things.

"You look like you're gonna fall asleep on your feet, little girly, go get some rest." He shook her hand with zest. "Thank you." He kept shaking. "Thank you."

* * *

Sitting in the dining chair Annie had dragged in for him, Boone was smoking a cigarette with his elbows digging into his knees. The courier had her head braced on the lip of the bath, submerged in water as she stared up at the roof quietly. He didn't mind sitting beside her, comfortable with the fact that she was still comfortable enough with him to bare herself. She hadn't taken her clothes of in front of anyone else for a long time, a sign of restraint on her behalf. It used to be something that he hated but now it was a perk.

"So are you gonna tell me why you left?" She asked him calmly, sliding her position to hug the side of the tub. Her wet fingers pressed into his kneecaps. He looked down at her, letting out a tired sigh.

"Was something I had to do." He watched her spin her wet hair into a bun on top of her head.

"Still, not a solid reason for a cryptic note. Gave me a heart attack." Her brows furrowed, fingers wrapping back around the porcelain. "You don't have any idea how much I care about you, do you? I'm not going to get all soft on you or anything, but god, Boone, come on now… not your brightest idea…."

He sat silently like a scolded child, aggravated with the annoying fact that if he talked back she would dig his grave deeper.

She rolled her eyes at him.

"And these things that you've done…" She went quiet, listening for anyone outside of the bathroom. "You either tell me or you don't. I get that you don't want to and all, but if it's going to weigh on your mind to the point of you marching to your death… then buddy, I think you may find it smart to let me know." She leant back and crossed her heart. "On my life, Boone, I won't judge you in any severe or unjust way."

He shook his head and she grimaced, flopping back to embrace the bathtub.

"You make me so mad." Annie sighed. "But in saying that, I can't stay mad at you for long. That face of yours..." She scowled. "Never used to be like this."

"In far too deep now." He agreed and she gave him a soft smile.

"That I understand, my friend." She reached out and patted him on the knee. "So with that in mind, remember that what you do also affects me. You don't want to touch me, I get it, but please know that I'm a little more…" she chewed her lip, eyes burning into the carpeted floor "… emotionally invested in you than I originally planned. I'm sure you know this by now."

He nodded.

"So in saying that, I've called dibs on you." She shrugged, leaning back to lay her head on the lip of the bath. She smiled despite herself. "If you ever feel like shacking up with someone, I'm first in line, alright?"

It was the first time she'd ever seen his teeth.

* * *

"Eesh," Annie wiped the burning cherry off of the green felt with the butt of her palm "okay, new rule, guys, no smoking near the pool table."

"Alright, but you're the only one breaking it, boss." The ghoul was leaning lazily on the pool stick. The courier looked up, turning to find her man who was standing in the corner of the room, smoking up his own certified smoking section. She shot him a look.

"You're just over there to make me look bad."

"Someone has to." Boone answered smartly and she huffed a laugh, returning to her shot.

"Alright, here we go, gonna to hit the white ball so that blue ball goes in that pocket right over there." She shook her head, blinking through the bleary smoke of her cigarette. She swung her arm and the white ball skittered off to the side, pirouetting into the opposite pocket. She gasped a sigh. "Crap."

"Not too good at that, Annie." Cass spoke over the rim of her fourth bottle of whiskey, collecting her cue to take her shot. The courier watched, the redhead's elbow swinging with ease. Annie grunted.

"Never spent too much time in bars." Hearing the _clack_ of a sunken ball, Boone pried the cue from Annie's hands. The girl punched his arm, swinging her gaze to the redhead. "Only time I ever set foot in one was to drag some poor bastard back out."

Cass stood up straight and moved out of the way for the sniper, the man leaning over to line up his angles. Annie watched curiously.

"Pool is a ridiculous game anyway… complicated." She leant on the wooden braces, stubbing out her smoke in the ashtray balancing dangerously on the edge. "When my friends and I were bored we'd play kickball. Uproot a cactus and there you go," she slapped her thighs "hours of fun."

Veronica snorted at her from the couch, buried in Annie's pipboy. Boone shot her an odd look from his place and shook his head, sending at least one ball off into a pocket.

"You know where the door is, six," Cass told her, clapping her on the shoulder "Go and get your cactuses. I'll give you a go."

"You're on." Annie grinned at her. "But not now. After this game it is bed time for me."

They had gathered in the living room to have a meet-and-greet with Boone. He was the only part of the team that the other two hadn't met yet (they had even had the delicate pleasure of meeting Arcade), and Annie was pushing for a casino-wide unity with the different parties. They had settled on doubles in pool, Veronica sitting out to be the indifferent party who passed her time dipping into Annie's information collection.

"It's alright, boss," Raul took the cue from Cass, gripping the stick with his fleshy fingers "with the way you're playing we'll be in bed in about… say, four minutes."

"Ohoho, you cheeky old man." She laughed happily, watching him grin under the soft ceiling lights. "Boone! Teach me how to play pool! This old man is testing me!"

The younger man sighed, handing her the stick while she watched Raul sink two perfectly. She should have listened to him when he said he'd been playing pool for a long time. The sniper leant next to her, pulling her wrist up to the end of the cue.

"Alright, Anna, hand flat, fingers back, thumb out… Yep." His hands moved her own quickly, pulling off complete instructions with the easiness of not having to touch her for too long. "Line up, remember angles. Where is the ball going to go. Swing your elbow, not your arm."

"Which one?" She asked.

"That red one, into that pocket right there."

"Alright, that red one, into _that _pocket." She swung her elbow back. "Right there."

The white ball skittered into the red, splitting them both ways. The red rolled into its hole, the white bouncing off the green bumpers and splitting two bigs. The courier jumped up, holding the stick to her face.

"Wow." She nodded. "Alright, not the pocket I was after but I'll take it."

"You got another shot." Cass told her, watching her eyes widen.

"I don't think I can do that again."

"That purple one into that corner pocket." Boone pointed her and she sighed, bending down to line it up. Cracking the stick forward, the white ball skimmed the purple, sending it sideways to roll back into the same pocket as the red. She dropped the cue, the stick sliding across the wood to get caught on a pocket bumper.

"Fluke, holy shit, fluke." She held her hands up.

"Maybe you were playing the fool all along, boss." Raul shrugged, gesturing her another shot. The girl's lips formed into an embarrassed line.

"You don't have to call me that..." she muttered, her cheeks going a delightful pink, Boone revelling in the rare moment of Annie being flustered. She bent down for the last time, twisting the cue in her hands to aim for the eight ball. As she pushed the stick forward, it fell from her fingers to slip on the green felt. The white ball sputtered miserably forward, bouncing the black ball forward to corner itself with a bumper and return to its original spot. The white sank perfectly into the side pocket.

They all watched her for a moment, waiting for her delayed reaction. Her gaze snapped up to catch Boone's and she let out a pelt of laughter, rubbing her tired eyes with her blue chalked fingers.

"Okay, Annie, if you're as good at kickball as you are at pool, you've definitely got yourself a game." Cass threw her arm around the woman's shoulder, offering her one last drink of the night. She didn't mind sharing, the courier having bought up a great stock from the Casino's restaurant and leaving them all for consumption. "Good game." She shook her hand.

"Good game." the courier snorted "You too Raul," she reached and took advantage of his rubbery fingers. "Good game, old man. I'll get you yet."

"One day, señorita, but today is not that day." He shook Boone's hand, turning back to the table to claim his cigarettes. Cass was hoarding her bottles in the corner, clinking the glass together as she sorted out her stockpile. Veronica had already excused herself for bed, giving the courier a pat on the shoulder for good night.

Annie turned to Boone.

"Good game." She punched his shoulder first, slipping her palm into his. "I'm sorry we lost."

"I can forgive you." Shaking her hand, he let her go so she could drift off to walk Cass and Raul to their room.

He followed them out the door, turning the light off to head to their main bedroom – finding a bright blue rex glowing at the end of their bed, tuckered out on their weapons trunk. Trying not to wake the sleeping beast, he slinked to the bed to pull his boots off, soon joined by a soft-footed Annie slipping through the doorway.

"So what do you think?" She asked, eyeing the dog as she shut the door. Quietly slipping her shoes off, Annie watched the man curiously as he changed shirts.

"Of what?" He asked, pulling the cotton over his stomach.

"Of them." The courier smiled, tugging off her own shirt to chuck it on the floor. Unzipping her pants, she headed over to the cupboard – finding her soft floral nightgown she had grown so fond of. "You know – the people I trusted enough to let in our house…" Shimmying out of her jeans, she stepped out of them, kicking the denim to the pile. Stretching a little, she pulled the nightgown over her head. "Who's gonna kill me first? Raul or Cass?"

"Me, if you don't lay down and go to sleep." He sighed cheekily, the woman sending him a haughty look as she flattened her hair.

"Nasty man." She huffed, eyeing his fingers as they tugged up his pants. "But you like them, right?"

"They're alright, for now." He told her, sitting across from her to tuck his legs into the sheets. She crawled over to him, flopping her sad form beside him as they both lay in a moment of silence.

"_Big_ couple of weeks…" She sighed, turning her neck to look at him.

"Yeah."

"Did you know, me and Veronica got more done in those two weeks than you and I have done in our entire time together?" The courier rolled onto her side, curled around her pillow.

"Is that a fact?" He asked.

"Yes! We went to Primm, Sloan, Goodsprings, Novac-" (she counted on her fingers) "got into a bar fight with Cass at the Mojave Outpost, saved Raul from a colony of Nightkin, nearly got assassinated three times by Legionnaires and then I come back to find you."

"Sorry for ruining your good time."

"Shut up," she reached over to smack his arm "I'm glad to have you back. None of that."

The man looked at her for a moment, letting a breath escape through his nose as he stared back up at the ceiling.

"Does House understand why we're back and nothing's been done?" He asked openly, the girl shooting him a look.

She cleared her throat to speak clearly. "House understands that I lost you and that put a halt to all plans. Not that he's happy about it, and I get that, but we'll be back on track by Saturday." Her eyes burnt into his to scold him for such an open-ended question. House could have been listening to them all night.

"And the dog?" His eyes fought themselves closed, suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue. When was the last time he shut them?

"The dog will come too." She shuddered, grossed out by the thought of a hybrid. "We'll do him on the way."

"Got it figured out, boss." He teased tiredly and she shut her eyes, reaching out to grab his forearm and give it a squeeze.

"Sleep, my friend." She cooed at him, patting him softly as she changed the subject. "Gotta go see old lady Farkas tomorrow." Her eyes cracked open slightly to give him a warm smile. "Night Boone. It really is good to have you back."


	30. Chapter 30

_Hey hey, second time uploading this. For some reason my trackpads gone all goofy and is clicking and dragging and moving for no reason so welcome to my own personal hell. _

_This chapter was a little harder to write than necessary so please excuse the parts where you can see I'm going brain-dead aheh. _

_Fool for You - Duffy_

_Any comments or questions or reviews or even unhappy campers are welcome in the review section. Tell me what to do and what I'm doing wrong because seriously, if I get anymore writers block on this story I'll probably sink in the bath. _

* * *

Annie was slumped in a rotting plastic chair, bent over her sledge like a wobbly guard rail. The sky that leaked in through the rips and tears in the worn tent flashed occasionally, suffering a sad case of stormy blues. Julie Farkas (a very dedicated fan of Annie's) had her clipboard poised over a member of the Kings, taking in the symptoms of food poisoning.

"Jacobstown?" The courier wanted to cry. Jacobstown was a big walk out of the way from where they needed to be going - also at a 30% incline towards the freaking snowy mountains. Radio New Vegas also told her that it was overrun with super mutants - and friendly or not, that thought was still terrifying.

It was like someone had tightened a leash around her neck, the courier slowly suffocating under the piles and piles of problems she had taken into her lap. The Strip was her base, the point of everything she had ever salvaged and saved for. Every time she watched her partner place his stuff into 'his' cupboard in 'our home' it just reiterated the fact that they were stuck there until something got done about it. Home wasn't in a shitty, musty old casino – it was out in the dirt and dust with the rest of the poor fuckers slumming it in the wastes.

Between all of Boone's problems (still something he didn't want to talk about), the extra three lives to worry about each day and the shivering tower of social issues that the Mojave was happily stacking, Annie's mind told her it would have just been easier to accidentally get in the way of Boone's line of fire.

Rex was curled at the sniper's feet, sighing heavily like all old dogs do, waiting to do something before he fell asleep. The hybrid had taken a liking to Boone, preferring the man's cool demeanor over Annie's jumpy one. She felt it sensed her uneasiness, giving her as much space as she needed like a true gentleman. She gave him pats every so often for that reason.

"I _tried_ telling The King, but he just ended up flattening Wallace." Farkas sniffed, pulling the clipboard to her chest to peer at the dog's sickly looking brain. "The man's an inferno when it comes to his possessions. I'm surprised he let you take him."

"I think he just wants him to get better. Or at least know there's a chance he will." Annie stated grimly, staring at the pink tongue that was heaving as the beast panted away the muggy air. "Alright then, Boone, change of plans. We'll have a quick chat with Veronica, and then we'll get this dog a new head."

"Do you think it's going to be that easy?" He asked, standing up to give Julie Farkas a sturdy handshake. The woman brightened at his friendly behaviour, ever thankful for the presence of the two.

"Is anything _ever _that easy?" The courier said flatly, scratching the ugly welt on her forehead. "Seeya Farkas. Thanks for the help. I'll try and bring some stuff back for you this time, alright?"

"Any help is always appreciated, Annie!" The Follower beamed at her.

The two exited the tent, heading towards the big wooden doors with heavy hearts for separate reasons. The sniper was keen on finding out why Annie wanted to 'talk' to the scribe, but knew that if the courier got any strong ideas in her head about saying something stupid she would just go along and do it. Breaking through the doors with a strong push, the two burst into the musty streets of Freeside - greeted by the shadowed slums and unhappy faces of the poor.

The sky rumbled in the distance, sun still peeking out from behind a couple of clouds but struggling to light up the morning. A thick black paste was heading towards them from the south, the foggy haze of rain dimming the void beyond the town walls.

"Chat with Veronica?" He asked, eyes flicking to the dirty looking gang of thugs hanging outside a crumbling building. The courier frowned at her hands, curling and uncurling her fingers as she thought it over.

"Gotta talk to her about what House wants me to do."

"And you think that's a good idea?"

"Got any other plans?"

"She'll tell you that you're stupid."

She frowned at him, clicking her eyes to his for a split second before focusing on the small group of people heading towards them. She pulled her sledge from her back awkwardly, rolling it in the palms of her hand as her partner snapped into action. He shot her a final look.

"All mine."

The three men became two quite quickly, the crack of the rifle echoing in and out of ragged buildings as the body hit the pavement with a happy _thwap_. The two thugs remaining looked at their friend, and then to Boone, frozen in their meandering postures like mediocre statues on the harsh streets of Freeside. They didn't take a second look, turning on their heels to head in the other direction. Sometimes Freeside inherited a few more thugs - newbies that still thought it appropriate to shoot at the courier and her sharp-eyed sniper. They always learnt their lesson quickly.

"Maybe I am stupid." Annie huffed, watching the men retreat until she could safely place her weapon in its straps. "Maybe she will understand that her sacrifice will make it a little easier for _my_ future."

"Maybe that's selfish." Boone said curtly, almost considered a snap if squinting. Her eyes narrowed at his words.

"Maybe I am selfish." The courier shot her words back unhappily, folding her arms across her chest mid-tantrum. He recognised the warning signs of an Annie meltdown (tiny eyes and pouted lips, cheeks all puffed out like a frumpy old woman) and he backed right up. Every so often when the girl had thought too deeply, she would retreat into a small-brained dither - often stalking off into some morbid situation that would leave her returning with an adrenalin rush and a lady-boner over the poor sniper.

They were only just starting to get along, too. Annie had been at peace with herself for a few days, recognising and voicing her feelings for him and all… That was a _little_ too weird for him to deal with at the moment, still coming to terms with his ragged mortality and all his little tricks to get away from it. But although the thought bothered and prodded the dark spaces of his brain, he felt that her second offer (classier than her first by a long shot) had brought them closer. Well, him to her, anyway.

Annie occasionally showed him her more civil side, found buried deep in hushed pillow talk when she was sloshed or just upset. It was different to when he first found the smart-mouthed shit head pooling over him in the mouth of a dinosaur, doe-eyed and making promises she really didn't keep… Now he had seen her for too long, knowing full well her habits and prerogatives better than he knew his own. If she wasn't pawing at his chest like a breathless woman she was a grumbling old man, complaining about her current life choices and wanting to be 'her own person'.

"You're not stupid." The man held his rifle in his arms, ready for the young men to attempt a second sneak attack. They usually did. "And you're not selfish."

Her frown faltered.

"I'm not saying that you should concern Veronica with your problem." He added. "But you're not selfish. You haven't given up yet."

"But I want to." Her voice was shaky, throwing her hands together to grind the knuckles into one.

"But you haven't." He said firmly, posing threat to all other nominees of the most rousing speech award. Inspirational didn't suit Boone. Lethargic about life suited Boone. The words didn't fit the mouth that was so used to dull conversations and bad memories, angry threats and irritated sighs. Despite his better judgement, he frowned at himself. "Why?" He meant it more of an easy question than a curious one. Only the great big man in the sky knows why it came out like that.

"Because… everyone else… _deserves_ a good chance at life." She answered slowly, looking up at him with widening eyes. There was a loud cry ("Hey, you!") from behind them, a previous assailant running full speed with a rusted kitchen knife – scaring the two children chasing after the giant rat that Rex was also happily pursuing. Boone swept around with supreme accuracy and took the man down with a shot to the chest, only turning back to her when he heard the thug stop breathing.

"Sounds like you know what you're doing." He added dryly as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, earning him a tired look from the girl.

"Sweet mother Boone, what would I do without you?" She sniffed, grinning all the same. There was a flash in her eyes over the limp apathy, a flicker of the bright flame that was her unstoppable confidence.

"You'd be dead."

The courier laughed a little, pushing her fingers against the others in thought, grinding her knuckles together in attempt to feel the bites of pain from pinched tendons.

"Don't get cocky, Boone," she spoke after a while, shoving her hands in her pockets awkwardly as they headed further away from the storm brewing in the distance. "without me, you'd probably be dead too."

He thought about it for a moment.

"Probably."

* * *

"And you're telling me this, why?"

Veronica was floored in the tacky Wrangler room, spread lazily on the bed as Annie sat between her legs in a flurry of panic. Throbbing with some sort of adrenalized guilt, the courier poured over the scribe in a fit of shame. Boone was against the door like a shady bouncer, watching the two women titter over each other in his old bed. At least he wasn't the only one Annie harassed on those sheets… The thought made him uncomfortable.

"No, no, no, I'm not _going _to. I don't _want _to." Annie shook her head with childlike vigour as Boone shifted in his spot. Veronica's hands clamped onto the girl's shoulders, the courier able to feel the press and release of the other woman's powerfist. She'd have taken it off sooner if the black-haired bimbo hadn't forced her onto the bed, mumbling about explosions and her Brotherhood legacy.

"Stop." The scribe said sternly. "You're being stupid."

Boone was right again, watching as the courier's mouth fell open when she tried to force words out. He knew exactly how Veronica would take Annie's stupid ideas, but the silly woman went along with it anyway. He had forgotten to take into account that when in self-discovery mode, people tended to follow their heart and not their head. Annie had been stuck in self-discovery mode since he met her.

"What do you want me to say, Annie?" The girl started again, slowly pushing the older woman off of her. "'Please, don't blow up my home'?"

"Yes." Annie spat happily. "Please say that. Give me a reason to not go there and kill all your peers." She grabbed the scribe's shoulders, the two in a weird stronghold. They did it with a sick ease that told Boone they had done it before. "Tell me what to do here because I am far too fucking confused and can't do this alone."

The scribe's eyes softened behind the hang of her hood, chewing her lip as she stared across at the wide-eyed woman.

"Don't do it, Annie. Don't kill a whole bunker of innocent people for an old man who treats you like a slave."

The room froze in silence for a moment, giving them time to hear the soft patter of rain on the rickety old roof. Boone watched Annie's eyes fill with something like gratitude, like Veronica had lifted a sudden weight from her small shoulders with three simple words. _Don't do it. _In three words, Veronica had done what Boone had tried to do for all those months.

"Thank you. That is what I needed to hear." Annie nodded, removing a hand to hold Veronica's cheek like a silver screen hero. "I won't let you down, I promise."

The scribe shook her head. "I'll hold you to that." Shifting in her place, Veronica looked up at Boone with a knowing smile. The man caught her idea, nodding back to her – like parents agreeing on their sleeping child's beauty. "Now, Annie, I appreciate your affection but can you get off my legs?"

* * *

Annie killed House when Boone wasn't ready.

He thought he had heard the elevator _ding_ a few minutes beforehand, but he had that figured as Cass heading back in from the Wrangler (the caravaneer was restless). Usually she just stumbled back into her room, falling face first into the bed she shared with Veronica after being out all night on the booze.

He should have found it odd when he realised he couldn't hear Annie's chatter. Boone could generally gauge where she was in the house and how twisted her face looked while doing whatever she was doing – probably either sparring word plays with Raul or complaining about the lack of fresh food in the fridge. He dismissed it as a stress nap on the couch.

But when the lights flickered… he knew something was wrong. Power never faulted in the Lucky 38.

Annie's pipboy lay abandoned on their nightstand, suddenly blinking with a received message. His eyes shifted to the buffed cylinder, lips pulling into a grim line. She'd gone and done the opposite of what he had expected her to do. It was becoming more irritating than anything…

Veronica was the first person who came to him, leaning in the doorway with a frown on her face.

"You see that?"

"Yeah." He replied, stretching to stand up. Following her into the lobby of the suite, they were greeted with the elevator doors being pried open by thin fingers. Boone and Veronica watched as a panting Annie, spattered with a tiny bit of dried blood and what appeared to be cryogenic dust, lurched out of the little red box.

"You!" She pointed at Veronica. "In. Now." Curling her fingers in a hurry, the courier urged the scribe into the lift. "You!" She pointed at Boone. "I will be back." She jammed her fingers into the buttons, the silver doors shutting around them as the gears whirred into life.

Raul was the only one to peek his head out from behind a door, stepping into full view when he found Boone with a stern face staring blankly at the metal doors.

"I think boss needs a nap." The ghoul headed towards the kitchen, breezing past him casually. "Keeps on going like this and her pretty little head is going to explode." He wandered off into the large room, the sucking sound of the fridge's seals smacking loudly. "Beer?" Raul called.

Boone stared unhappily at the lift. "Yeah."

They pulled up two dining chairs in front of the lift, sitting there with a six pack and an ashtray as the glowing white numbers ran down. All was quiet bar the softly goading radio singing some twangy tune – dialled to Annie's favourite station that purely consisted of sad country music.

They sat quiet for a couple of minutes, Boone lighting a cigarette in habit to calm the jittered nerves that were screaming for an explanation from the mouth of Annie. Why hadn't she taken him with her? Why hadn't she told him what she was doing? Why didn't he read a little more deeply like he usually did? The numbers above the lift had started back towards their floor.

"The wastes love her is what I'm hearing." The old man spoke suddenly, holding his beer towards the lift to signify the woman who had left. "You see that she fixed up Primm and saved Goodsprings from some convicts? Nipton she was a little too late to but I think she got the message."

The doors ding'd open, showing Cass swinging on her legs as she leant against the polished handrail.

"Hello boys," she said bashfully "waiting for me?"

"I don't think my old body could handle you, chica." Raul drawled happily and the caravaneer grinned, staggering past them towards the bedroom.

"What about you, soldier?" She brushed his shoulder on her way past, leaving the warm scent of a woman lingering around him. He sighed. "I suppose you've got your nose too far up Six's skirt to give little old me a try." She guffawed to herself, kicking off her boots and abandoning her caps purse on a bookshelf. Was there a note taped to his face that read 'please step on me, ladies'? Women like Cass and Annie, with their sharp tongues and delicious smiles, always lead to trouble.

She grabbed a stashed bottle of whiskey and dragged a desk chair between them. Lazily, she fell back into the seat and cracked the foil top, offering it to the ghoul first.

"The girl can swing a sledge." Raul commented over a sip of the strong liquid. Boone looked over at him, arms folded on his chest in attempt to hide whatever was triggering Raul into playing the permissive father figure. He'd fallen victim to that once before – Old Ben – Annie's mouth and his fingers and her shallow breaths and happy eyes, glowing with something stupid like pride after she had so easily made him-… he shut his eyes.

"Who? Annie?" Cass piped up, nudging the sniper as she shifted in her seat to get extra comfy. She kicked her socks one over the other, taking the bottle from Raul to have her own sip. Sculled it like water. "She's uh-" Cass wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "-she's a tough bitch. Got a nose magnet in her fists, I swear to fucking god." She handed him the bottle. "Why are we talkin' about Annie?"

"I was just telling my friend here that boss needs a bit of R&R." Raul replied. The redhead nodded, shrugging for a second before slumping in her chair.

"I think you've got the right idea, old man." She spoke, shutting her eyes quietly as Boone took a swig of the liquor, sitting peacefully in silence with the other two – Cass tipping her hat to cover her face in her own nap, the ghoul sitting pretty as he sized up the awkward plastic plants in the lobby.

Ten minutes passed and the light above the elevator lit up, swinging down to the casino lobby with boring little jumps. There was a pause and the lights flickered into business once again, skimming straight past their floor to the very top – House's suite. Boone felt something swimming in his stomach (probably the noodle and whiskey combination), dumping a whole bag of salt on the idea by busying himself with the label of the fresh-brewed beer from the vats in the casino's basement.

Veronica and Annie were cramped up at the super computer, surrounded by blank-faced securitrons that whirred in confusion at every signal missed. Empty shells of beings, wheeling around without a strong purpose. Even the ones on the Strip had gone somewhat goofy, only urging Annie to walk faster and with purpose to the Tops Casino. With a shaky pistol escort through the lobby of the shocked chairmen, she blew Swank a kiss as she wheeled the securitron through the door.

"Thanks, honey!" She called; eyes alight with weird glossy purpose. The chairman could only cautiously.

Veronica wasn't as fine-tuned as Boone was to Annie, but she knew that her friend was verging on a great brain crash. With the constant strain of the past few weeks (Boone's disappearance and problems, three new mouths to feed _and _the towering stack of problems that the Mojave accumulated like age-old hoarders, etcetera…) Annie seemed to be wobbling under the pressure. The courier had told Veronica all she could about herself, the scribe more than interested in the inner workings of the allusive Renegade of the Wastes. Veronica understood Annie in the way that she needed a little guidance now and then – and even though Veronica never thought herself a leader she knew it was her duty to lend a helping hand.

"Thank you for plugging me in!" Yes Man was beaming on the big screen. "Now we can get straight to business! Have you talked to all the tribes in the area, yet?"

Annie slumped on the control panel, thanking Veronica quietly for her help with the technology side of things. The scribe was happy to help, crouched over Yes Man's abandoned body that lay like a dropped bowl of noodles on the floor.

"No, not yet. Hold up on that for a while." The girl waved the robot away redundantly, stretching her back as she gripped the useless dials and buttons on the control pad. "Alright, first order of business, Yes Man!"

"Yes Ma'am!"

"I want this casino locked from the inside for only tonight, please." Rubbing her eyes, the girl pushed away from the bench to head towards the door to House's previous chamber. "People can leave, but that can't get back in. If you can do that."

"Of course I can." The computer brayed happily.

"Thank you, Yes Man. Nothing's to change with the Strip for now, so no extra robots or anything. I don't even want the streetlights a little brighter." Veronica watched the girl as she paced in front of the screen, arms crossed over her chest with one finger in her mouth as she thought of all the things she could do. "Keep it normal." She went to look at her pipboy and huffed, realising she had left the damn thing back on the nightstand.

With the swing of a ponytail, Annie corked back into her paces, rubbing her chin with a dirty palm.

"And can you find out how long it will take to open this casino again?"

"My, with these new resources I can have this casino up and running for you by tomorrow night!"

"That's far too soon." Annie winced. "Don't do that. That's a future plan. Yes Man?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"What's the time?"

"Three twenty-eight."

"Will it rain tonight?"

"I do not have the resources to predict the weather." The computer answered, still bright and always creepily cheerful. "Nor do I have fleshy meat eyes to look out of the window. But, the temperature outside-" (It flashed on the screen) "-is telling me if it were to rain anywhere tonight it will be here."

Annie let out a snort, chewing her lips like a bad habit.

"Veronica?" She asked, catching the brunette's attention as the courier continued staring uncomfortably up at the beaming face. "Would it let you down if I went and had a sleep?"

"Sleeping isn't a crime to me or my people." She grinned back. Annie nodded, patting the keyboard as a short-sighted attempt at robot courtesy.

"In that case, I'm going to go to bed for a while. We'll head to Jacobstown tomorrow. Can't walk in this weather anyway." Stretching up and yawning, Annie led the girl to the elevator. It felt as if someone had thrown her in the lake with all her clothes on, physically weighed down by whatever sleep had avoided her for the past few weeks.

The elevator mirrors held the back of her head as she slumped against them, one leg crossed over the other. The roof was stained with an awkward brown, decades old and probably a very horrifying story in it's own time… Annie couldn't even keep a straight thought, the weird weightless feeling of the lift giving her a bit of a stomach-ache.

Back to bed, then to Jacobstown, then come back and sort out this Strip, and then go back out and fix up the wasteland and possibly attempt to convince the population to follow _her_ way (the affiliation to faction choices were endless) and then somehow force back the Legion and NCR without getting half the population killed... Those were her goals for the near future.

The doors unsealed with a cheery bell, opening to find three very bored companions gathered in the suite's lobby. It took no time for the courier and the scribe to swing into action, Veronica gathering Cass up and sending her towards the beds. Annie unzipped her dress the moment she silently stepped out, pulling the shitty material over her head before lunging towards her bedroom.

"Big day, boss?" Raul stood up and claimed his chair, already on his way to the dining room. Boone joined him, beer in one hand and chair in the other – watching the scarred skin of Annie's back sway off towards the closed door.

"Only the biggest." She turned and smiled, twisting the doorknob. "I'm going to bed for a few hours. I don't like the look of the weather at the moment – Jacobstown is called off until tomorrow morning. We walk rain or shine, Boone." She cocked her finger at him before slipping off behind the closed door. He could hear her talking to herself, barely muffled by the casino's thin walls. "Wasted enough fucking time already…"

Boone found her a few minutes later, sleeping funeral style with her hands curled onto her stomach. She looked uncomfortable, not in her usual spread-around-the-bed style – like she had simply lain down and passed away. The idea creeped him out more than it should have, ending up going against all his mind's wishes and rolling her onto her side. Her body flopped like a dead Brahmin, his hands pushing the bend of her knee to stop her from rolling over and smothering herself.

He tucked her pillow under her head and her arms, leaning back uncomfortably to survey his work. No, nothing had changed – he still felt just as odd doing that as when he first touched her. He wished for the day he could climb in right behind her and hold her like he did his wife those few years ago…

Even his own thoughts made him feel sick.

Annie's skin felt like fire under him for no good reason; a warning sign telling him to back straight off. No good could come from it, and getting too involved with Annie would be like pressing his hand down on a lit stove.

Scolding himself for feeling anything other than regret, he turned to leave only to find his boot stuck to the carpet. He wished for an ounce of peace - the feeling he felt when he cleaned out that Legion camp – the quiet in his brain that allowed him to make rational decisions without the ache of guilt… now it was starting to roar again, crushing his ears with a crinkling white noise that focused in on children falling and his wife's tears.

He realised he preferred the burning skin to a screaming brain, turning his neck to take one last look at the woman who had caused more storms in his head than natural weather had caused for the Mojave in an entire year. She had curled around her pillow, looking more and more like her usual self with each sweet inhale and exhale that brushed the white sheets...

With abandoned shoes and the squeak of a mattress, he was soon beside her – half up and getting comfortable enough to think to himself as she slept. Annie must have sensed him, her hand creeping over to run her fingers across his knee, falling sleepily in their place as she drifted back off into deeper dreams.

His fingers twitched to hers, stealing the tips into his own palm. She goose bumped his skin but it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would, his gut telling him to stay as close as he possibly could without hurting himself. His thumb brushed her knuckles and he frowned, spare hand pushing up his glasses so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Fate had a funny way of teasing him - dangling a younger, prettier and more-than-enthusiastic-about-him girl under his nose each time he thought things were getting better- _but still_ managing to have the balls to yank him back when he was just about to reach out. First Carla (the woman he had destroyed with his own hands) and now Annie - tired little Annie with the shiny eyes he hated but sort of really liked at the same time...

He had learnt his lesson the first time around... At least he thought he did. Carla, who was physically nothing more than a wallet photo of their Vegas wedding and a note signed with his name, embodied everything good in his world. Everything good was dead. And Annie wasn't good for him - not really, no. He didn't need the extra stress of another woman on his mind, at home alone with him far away doing god knows what to god knows how many innocent civilians... But in saying that, Annie wouldn't put up with the shit Carla had to deal with - no, not ever - Annie would tell him to fuck off before she loved him like Carla did. Annie didn't like him for his personality, he thought that for sure.

Head against the backboard, he stared lazily up at the roof as the soft drumming of rain swept over the tower, the distance echoing with a slap of thunder. The courier's favourite song jingle-jangled on the radio and Raul, Cass and Veronica were laughing loudly about something in the other room. He thought about joining them, still buzzed from the elevator waiting, but lazy in the way that he didn't see a reason to leave Annie alone while the sky crackled around them.

So the sniper sat alone, tracing her chewed fingernails as he tried to remember something his father used to say.


	31. Chapter 31

_So this one got incredibly long because I wrote out a plan for this chapter and I so desperately wanted to fit everything in. I think it's my brain trying to compensate for the last chapter. But I'm happy with this one - in fact, it wasn't even a struggle to write. If that's not progress... right?_

_I'd like to thank __**Tom-Ato13**__ for giving me a hand with this. And I'd like to thank everyone who has commented and followed and favourited so far. Means more than a lot to me, trust me._

_**Walk on By (Sound Remedy Remix) - Noosa**  
or if you're not one for remixes, there is an original of that song. It's also freaking excellent. check it out._

* * *

It was just light enough outside for the street lamps to turn off for the morning, the sun attempting to creep through the thick, clumpy clouds that drilled the Strip a super pink. The weather gods did not seem happy; a bad sign on the group's behalf, _but_ the courier was not waiting any longer. She had to go put a new brain in a dog.

With a heavy pack on her back and followed by Boone and Veronica and a cyber dog, Annie was ready to set off towards Jacobstown. For the first time in a while, the courier was semi-sure of herself – she had goals now..! Steady, normal and very ambitious goals. The days of fucking around in some sand were over and now she had grown into a responsible young lady. She had a casino now… And if that wasn't every twenty-something year old wasteland woman's biggest dream, then what was the point of even living?

Two words scratched behind Annie's eyeballs when she blinked. **THIS BLOWS**_._

There was something itching beneath her skin (a feeling stronger than guilt and anger), telling her to turn around and walk away. She had no love for the Strip and it's political issues – they were like a leech on her nerves, and boy, it would have been so easy to crawl back to Papa Khan like a whimpering child. Jessup said they would take her back- and she could more than definitely get past the initiations…

Oh god… when was the last time she had been in a fight? The bar brawl with Cass didn't amount to anything compared to her earlier ones. Sitting in a hotel for that long while had lost her her love of destruction! Nothing was better than the feeling of a sharp steel-cap boot and the taste of bloody dust… return home to the tent for a warm night with whoever you liked the most at that point in time… there was no thrill in her life anymore! The irritation burnt like dry ice bubbling at her skin, getting more tense by the second in posture and in face.

Rex let out two sharp barks.

"We ready, _Boss_?" Veronica tinkled behind her, catching Annie's attention. She looked down at her hands and untwisted them, letting out a little squeak in shame of the name. "Lead the way, then." Pointing to the pink streets, the scribe gave the other girl a quick nudge in the right direction. As far as Boone was concerned, Annie was still completely zonked. Like an upright corpse, the courier was promoting a false air of confidence. Her eyes were well-lit and certain but the bitten nails and sleepy slump told all.

"Yeah yeah, g'off my back." Annie waved over her shoulder, clomping down the ramp with her tightly laced boots. It was a muggy morning that had already summoned sweat under her bangs, splitting them and crawling down her face. Boone had told her that Jacobstown was near snow - he even pointed the mountains out in the distance for her… At least there was something to look forward to.

"Look at it this way Annie…" Veronica kept on. "At least you're doing better than that guy."

Leaning against the chain-link trash fence was a passed-out NCR soldier, probably fresh off the monorail and waist deep in alcohol poisoning. He had a note folded in his hands, like he had fallen asleep waiting for someone. The paper was poised out, lit up by the neon light that leaked through the slowly thinning clouds.

Her shoulders slumped. Every time an NCR grunt was planted outside the 38 it meant the old fogey at the barracks was calling for her. She had ignored him for a long time – in fact, ever since they had arrived at the Strip, she had ignored him. The NCR loved to make her do things she didn't want to do – and being constantly attached to Boone, it made it very hard to decline… Annie could already imagine the look he would give her if he found out she'd been avoiding them. It made her grin.

She marched over, plucking the note free of the young man's hand. Her sudden movement shocked her companions, not expecting much from the snail pace Annie had adopted recently. Boone stalked after her, tugging the note from her hands just as she went to break the paper seal.

"That's not yours." His voice came out stern and right. Annie snapped her eyes up to him.

"I'm nearly ninety-five percent sure it is." She corrected him as the man snapped his fingers in the soldier's face. The grunt awoke with a jerk, eyes flickering between the three elders in attempt to figure himself out. He jumped again, clenching and unclenching his hands only to find nothing. He slapped his body in search, coming up clean and letting out a little groan.

"This yours?" Boone asked, holding the note in the young man's face. The soldier shook his head in disbelief, taking the paper back into his possession as he muttered a tiny 'thank you'. "No problem. C'mon." The sniper cocked his head towards the gate, Annie's eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"You waiting for me?" She asked the boy, folding her arms. Squinting in the harsh light, the younger man leant forward to take a better look at her. Confirming her face, he nodded.

"Yeah—Yes, I am, actually. For Annie O." He handed the note out to her, the courier grinning again before side glancing at Boone. She took it between her fingers, attempting to pull it away before the soldier spoke again. "Dennis Crocker wants me to add, that, uhh… that-" (He cleared his throat of sleep) "-since this is the third time that he's sent a message-" Annie eyes widened, holding up her hands.

"Private conversation, soldier!" Shushing him with a finger, she turned to Boone and Veronica. "I'm just going to take this on the side, alright? Ten minutes, tops." She ushered the boy away towards the local securitrons, fighting off the knowing glances of her partner and the scribe. As much as she enjoyed tormenting the sniper, she didn't really need him upset with her choices all the way to a town full of mutants.

Hand on the soldier's arm, Annie pulled him close. "What does Crocker want now?" The boy cleared his throat again, uncomfortable with the girl's grip.

"Since this is the third time he's sent a message to you, he wanted me to add that it is now marked as urgent."

The girl stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowing slowly.

"That's it?" She snatched it from his hands, slowly devouring the words with her bad eyes. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Uh-"

She looked over at her companions and to back to the note, releasing her grip on the poor man's shoulder.

"Alright, whatever. Go on." She waved him away. "Shoo." Skimming over the note once again, she picked out the key words the best she could. She could have grafitied her own billboard the way that the NCR liked to twist her arm. Turning on her heel, back towards the scribe and the sniper, Annie dumped her pack at their feet.

"Third time he's sent what message?" Boone asked when she caught his eye, the young girl pulling a face.

"Don't look at me like that. I've been busy." Hands on her hips, she tucked the note sneakily into her pocket. "Come on, can't waste anymore time."

With the speed of a scorned mother, Boone had the note from her pocket. Annie reached up to tug it away, only to be caught by the wrist. Veronica took a step back, having never seen one of the two's power tussles before – the sight was a little off-putting to a bystander who didn't understand the finer points of their relationship. The sniper, still as cold as ever, lowered her arm and folded the paper two more times.

Even though she could barely see his eyes through the sky's tint on his glasses, Annie knew just the look he was giving her. She could tell by the way he tensed his jaw… the way he sort of rolled his neck to relieve whatever tension she had caused him…

She grew her sick grin instantly. "That's not yours."

He knew she was right, her stupid grin stretching wider to tease him. He felt the tug of guilt in his stomach and he handed her back the note. It was just that Annie usually told him everything she was doing – and her hiding something about the NCR… His eyes fell from wide to narrow.

Annie felt terrible after that- she probably should have just gotten the Embassy visit over and done with. She knew how much the NCR meant to Boone, and she'd blatantly refused to acknowledge that. If it came down to a choice between her and his republic (even though she knew he liked her more than he put on) he would choose sweet freedom and a rifle.

The note lay stagnate between them, the girl staring up at him with those wide, almost naïve eyes… Did he even have a reason to be irritated about it? He hadn't exactly told her everything he had and hadn't done.

The two looked at each other miserably.

"Read it. Go ahead." Annie held it out again. "I didn't understand most of it anyway." She turned to Veronica as Boone began to decipher Crocker's typing, crouching down to go through her bag for her smokes. If the sniper found anything wrong with that note he would have marched her to the embassy himself. "Sorry about the hold up, Ron, I know how excited you were about watching robo-dog surgery."

"I think I can wait a little longer. Besides, this is more important." Veronica adjusted her hood, shielding her eyes from the almost blinding sunrise. "'Don't step on the bear'."

Annie rolled her eyes at that, urging herself to take a glance at her partner.

"Is it bad?" She asked. He looked down at her, almost apprehensively, and folded the note back four times.

"You have to go see Dennis Crocker." He told her plainly, passing it back. The girl stood up straight. "Now."

"Now?" She whined.

"Now."

"We don't have the time for Dennis Crocker." She threw her hands out. "We have to go and fix Rex. I'm more scared of The King than I am of Dennis fucking Crocker."

The look he gave her could have shrunk her down twice if Annie wasn't so snappy, the folding her arms across her chest in annoyance. Sweet, faithful Boone… So loyal to his fair republic… She was painfully reminded of his future crossroad choices by the stitched on patch on his red beret. He wasn't even in the damn army anymore and he still wore it.

Annie ground her teeth together in thought. Rex needed a new brain, but in all honesty if she declined a meeting with the old bastard in the embassy, Boone would not be a happy man. That's the last thing she wanted.

A sigh burst from her lips. Another sacrifice for the greater good…

"Go without me." She crouched back down to unzip the main pocket of her backpack. She began to drag out her medical kit, sorting through water bottles and spare clothes. "Don't need three people to walk a dog. I'll go see this old man and if you're not back in like, four days, I'll walk over with Raul and Cass."

"We can stay another day." Boone said, leaning down to attempt to stop her. She waved him away again.

"No, it's okay, sweetheart. Cool down. Veronica will look after you, I know that for a fact."

The scribe nodded.

"You're in great, powerful hands." She laughed at Annie, catching Boone's stoic stare momentarily before awkwardly pausing. "Ah, I'll do all the talking."

"Yeah, you just make sure she doesn't get hurt." The courier pointed up at the man. She held out her med kit, making sure Boone tucked it into his bag safely. "Even a scratch on her lovely little head and god help me…" She drawled off, lunging to full height. Flicking a few dials on her pipboy, she held out the screen to the scribe – running her finger along the road towards Jacobstown. "Boone already knows how to get there, but really it seems like a pretty simple walk."

"Yep, cool." Veronica nodded. "So… we'll see you when we get back?"

"Not if I get there first." Annie beamed, reaching over to give Rex an awkward 'farewell' pat on the back. "Don't worry about me…" She sighed again; grinning at the two of them "Got some politics to rough out. The wastes can wait."

"We can stay another day." Boone repeated.

"No, get this over and done with. We promised The King we'd fix his dog. The sooner it's over, the better." She took a step back, hoisting her bag back over her shoulders. "Now, you two be safe. No getting into fist fights with the mutants." Annie held out her arms for Veronica. "And when I say that, I mean you." Sweeping the scribe into a hug, the courier patted the back of her head lovingly.

"Been there, done that." The younger girl leant back. "We'll be fine, Annie."

"Better be. And you,-" she turned to Boone, the man eyeing her unhappily. He was stuck in another situation where his pressure on Annie broke the wrong camel's back. He'd never been out alone with Veronica before… Did she talk as much as Annie? She had a powerfist –a close range combatant… He'd hang back a bit farther that trip. "-nothin' stupid." She reached up to hold his jaw in her right hand, tapping him on the chin before giving him a happy pat. Her brain was groaning in annoyance – she was sleeping alone that night… No Boone to subconsciously curl around while he slept and didn't know a thing… _Get your act together, Annie! _Her mind scolded in attempt to stay level-headed. Rex needed to get on the road - the shiny beast laying unhappily in the filtered sunlight. _Go to Crocker, tell him to fuck off, and get back on track. _

The man nodded.

"Seeya." Veronica gave a happy wave as they retreated towards the gate. Annie shooed them off, heavy-hearted and bubbling with a cool annoyance. She turned on her heel as soon as they slipped through the metal gates, clomping off straight towards the other end of the Strip.

* * *

The first she was going to do when she got home was contemplate the uses of the two other gates that separated the strip. Was it really necessary to have to wait for the securitrons guard to open and close them for you? It was a waste of time, and even Annie's teeth were on edge about it. She was on breaking point, stressing herself into a shake that jittered through her fingers like an angry bug a jar.

She burst through the doors of the embassy, greeted by three NCR soldiers and the receptionist sitting around having their morning coffees. They looked up at her in shock, the courier still decked out in her travel armour. If it were any other moment she would have looked like an insane merc.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked, standing up behind her desk. The men scattered back to their posts, watching Annie with steel glances as she floated up towards the receptionist.

"I'm here to see Dennis Crocker." She put her hands flat on the desk, the other woman leaning back.

"Do you have an appointment?" Receptionist countered, not having any of Annie's shit. The courier's face tightened at the sharpness of her voice, slipping her hand slowly into her front pocket. The men in the room tightened the grip on their guns.

"I have a note that's marked urgent." Holding Boone's squarely folded note, she slipped it over the polished wood. "I had a little boy outside my house all night waiting for me. Now, I have somewhere I need to be, but since this note is marked _urgent_… I figured this was more important than the place I _need _to be." She pressed the paper forward. "Yeah."

The woman gaped at her for a moment before settling herself down. "Alright. I apologise. You must understand that we've only just opened the doors for the day. Mr Crocker isn't in yet."

"Can you get him? I'm sure since this note is marked _urgent—_"

"Mikey, can you go get Mr Crocker please. Make sure to tell him that- I'm sorry, I didn't get your name…-"

"Uh," she glanced at the note "Annie O."

"Annie O… Alright, make sure to tell him that Annie O. is requesting a meeting in the Embassy lobby, please?" The receptionist nodded him off. "Thank you."

Annie brightened as the doors swung closed. "Great, thank you. I'll just take a seat then?"

"Yes, ma'am. Coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee, perfect." Annie tipped off her bag and plonked down beside a soldier, tucking the pack between her knees. "Thank you." She reached up to tighten her ponytail, running her fingers through her bangs to seem sort of acceptable in front of the screamingly silent room. She glanced up at the man to her right. "Hi." She nodded.

The man smiled cheerfully at her. "Good morning."

She gave a sweet mumble in agreement. "Enjoying your time on the Strip?"

"Whenever I get to see it, yes." He nodded back down to her, crossing his arms around his rifle.

"Ah, working for your stay, huh?" She rubbed her arms, the embassy's shitty aircon finally kicking in for the morning. The soldier shook his head.

"On duty from McCarren. First rail in in the morning, last rail out at night."

"Hmm, got a good little system." Annie replied happily, receiving the steaming black cup of fragrance. She let it cool in her lap.

"You could call it that." He shrugged and cleared his throat after a moment of silence. "Ma'am… If you don't mind me asking… well, we've heard about you on the radios and uh…. What's the 'O' stand for?"

The girl squinted. The 'O? … The 'O' on the note? She spat a short laugh. "Fucked if I know." The doors opened once again, siphoning pink light all over the dirty carpet. A dishevelled man, mid forties with a nice blue suit was standing before her, straightening his tie and dusting crumb from his cuffs.

"Annie O! You've decided to come and see me." He greeted her brightly, starting forward to reach for her hand. The girl took her cup in one and pushed up with the other, wiping the residue on the pants of her armour. "I assume Joshua got you the message."

"Yeah, well… poor boy should be out enjoying himself, not waiting for me to get out of bed." She sipped the coffee. "Now what the hell is so _urgent_?"

"Come," he ushered her along, the girl picking up her pack with one hand to hoist it away. "to my office."

He sat her down and shut the door, slinking back towards the chair behind his computer. The NCR president above Mr Crocker stared straight over her head with unblinking eyes; stoic and proud of whatever messes he had inherited… President Kimball… That name rang a big, dirty bell in her head.

"Now, I assume you've read my note."

"Yeah, I have. I've read them all." She took another drink, holding the warm cup on her knee. "But, I don't exactly get what you're throwing at me, here."

The old man pursed his lips into a thin line, staring Annie straight down the barrel. The girl watched him with rigid shoulders, borrowing techniques she had used on Boone's silent stare – and Mr Crocker was not as serious as Boone. The man looked away, brows creased together as he tattered on his keyboard suddenly.

"It's recently come to our attention that Mr House has passed away… And you and your-" (he paused, searching for a word) "-friends have been living inside the Lucky 38 for a few months now…" Annie listened carefully to his words, nodding along with his syllables like a child to a storybook. He checked his notes, eyes skimming the words before pointing them out for her. "We also had word that you were seen taking a securitron out from the Tops Casino, I believe, and into the Lucky 38 around that same time..." He leant an elbow on his desk, face like a cheeky old grandfather.

The courier didn't know what to say, rolling her shoulders for a moment before shrugging coolly.

"Before you go any further sir, I want you to understand that threatening me will get you nowhere." Her body stayed calm but her brain was raging war, boiling over after the long morning of irritations.

"I'm not threatening you, Miss O." He leant back. "No, no, no…" He shook his hands at her. "It's been requested that I let you know that if you are getting any ideas about the Strip now that it has fallen into your lap… well… The NCR is not going to be able to work with you anymore. We will not accept your help and will not come to your aid if you wish to break alliance."

She leant forward, eyes burning into his with such intense and concentrated rage that she had to tuck her hands between her thighs to stop them from vibrating. It was silent for a moment, Annie attempting to cool herself down with a touch on the forehead.

"Now you listen to me, old man!" Her hand snapped from the hole in her head to point directly at his chest "I did not come here to get a smack on the wrist for doing nothing wrong!"

The man narrowed his eyes in thought, leaning back in his chair to take in her words to the full effect.

"I have been nothing but polite to the NCR and now you're coming at me with _what_? You'll cut me off if I get any ideas?" Her hands gripped the side of the chair. "That's not on." She paused, waiting for him to speak. When no words came, she leant even closer, voice lowering "I'm sorry, but do you really think you have some sort of massive standpoint against me when you don't even speak for everybody on the Strip?"

"I didn't arrange this meeting in hopes that I would make you angry, Annie. May I call you Annie?"

"Yeah, sure." She sniffed, slumping back into her seat.

"It was never my intention to upset you, Annie." He rested his elbows on the desk, lacing his fingers together in thought. "I am just carrying the word from above me. I understand your point, young lady, and I also understand that you were House's appointed protégé. You did all the long yards for him, and you deserve that casino."

"Are you trying to stroke my ego, Mr Crocker? I already know that casinos mine. Regardless of whether you want it or not, sir, you're not allowed to have it." She grinned her sticky grin at him, reaching a breaking point in her fight against her villain behind the desk. "In fact, in saying that, Mr Crocker, the Strip is technically under my control. So _technically… _You should be listening to me."

"The only man I answer to is President Kimball, ma'am." The man replied simply.

"And you can. That's what I want you to do." She added, much to his distaste. "I want things to stay just as they are. You can have your embassy and your barracks and your damn monorail. You can safely stay in _my _Strip, because I have no problems with the NCR. If, however, you were to start poking me a little too hard with that whole 'cutting me off' thing, you will be the first one packing your bags."

The man thought for a long while, Annie sipping her cooling coffee with the man in her sight over the cracked white rim of the cup. She had won; thank the great gods in the sky! On the inside her organs felt like liquid, tossed and bubbled by the shuddering and twitching of her muscles.

"I don't want any trouble, sir." She added quietly at the end, to smooth over the rough edges she left with her quick-shot words. "Considering your reputation with the three families, I don't think any sort of take over would go down too well, either. So don't get any ideas. Play it safe for a while."

Dennis Crocker wasn't a stupid man. He sure as hell wasn't a pushover, either, but the fire in her sight looked like it was burning out of control as she twitched in her seat across from him. The girl looked like she had a loose wire, eyes like dinner plates as she stared him down in an almost mocking way. She had won; there was no doubt about it. She controlled the securitrons (the same ones that were patrolling the monorail platforms in the broadcasting building), so she had the power.

Annie had stomped on the bear, but had offered stimpack afterwards with a quick '_and don't do it again, you hear?' _

"I have some letters to send." He told her and she smiled warmly, standing suddenly. Her legs felt like jelly, throbbing with a dull ache from all the tension buildup. Shaking herself out, she pulled her pack onto her shoulders and held out her hand.

Annie didn't want to leave on a bad note. If word circulated that the courier was not playing by the rules, Boone would not be impressed. It was bad enough that she had been hiding the letters like a horrible report card, but if he came home to the sight of hundreds of slaughtered NCR soldiers littering the streets of the Strip, he probably would have killed her himself. She cleared her throat.

"If you want, Mr Crocker, I can set up a monthly meeting with you, me and the three families. We can talk about things, get it all smoothed over." She gripped his hand tightly, giving it a firm shake. "Swank loves me and Cachino owes me a big one. I can give you all the help you need, if you let me."

"And the White Glove Society?" The man was baited.

"Like they'd want to be the only ones not knowing anything." She rolled her eyes and the man nodded, giving her hand another shake.

"Thank you for finally visiting, Annie O." Crocker walked her to the door, turning the knob and helping her out with a tight smile on his face. "It was a pleasure."

* * *

After trumping around the Strip all morning, visiting the three families and getting their words signed in agreement, Annie had returned back to Freeside for lunch. She didn't want to go back to the casino (the thought of it made her ill), so she booked herself some squirrel on a stick and a sarsaparilla and headed up to her and Boone's Wrangler room.

The sky outside had faded from its glorious pink to a heavy shade of grey, the clouds threatening to spill at any moment. In the distance was some lightning, followed by the soft sounds of far away thunder. There was no chance of her getting out to meet Boone and Veronica by nightfall, especially with the way the weather threatened her.

She decided to stay inside, curled up in the sheets with the white wash walls for company. Digging into the squirrel, the courier watched the ceiling. She would have liked to be with her friends somewhere else, out there in the wasteland… Cass was sleeping off another bender and Raul had buried himself into the processes of Yes Man's old body for the day (he was quite enthusiastic about it, actually – no air of sarcasm could be traced)… and Boone and Veronica were gone.

Annie suddenly hoped she hadn't sent them to their deaths. On their way to rescue Raul from Black Mountain, they had run into a big old green man named Neil – he talked of Jacobstown and how civil it was there, but the more time spent hiking up the road to find the ghoul just imprinted the idea that the big old blue ones were fucking loopy.

Veronica would take care of Boone… The young girl was a godsend – always eerily understanding and ready to lighten things up when they fell dull. She'd even managed to get more awkward grins out of Boone than the courier had ever done – a feat in itself, bearing in mind the circumstances. And Boone…

Boone would look after Veronica. Boone looked after everybody. He was a very generous man, considering.

The bed beside her was cold as she lay down, abandoning the sharpened stick and resting her soda on the nightstand. Her hands laced on her stomach, eyes closing softly. She was so tired, tense and worried. The scary lack of security troubled her, feeling miserable without Boone to sort of ebb the fear away. He was usually the rock in bed beside her that always radiated warmth for her taking…

Annie could feel where he slept, imprinted in the mattress softly under her fingers. He was always there when she woke up, still quietly snoozing beside her as his brain attempted to piece itself back together after a long day of tearing himself apart. She'd missed him so much when he disappeared for those two weeks… The courier would check back to Novac every few days, constantly on the move – waiting for him to come home to her but expecting the worse. Then she had sent him back on the road again! Without her!

_Boone will be back soon_, she assured herself sleepily. _Boone will be back and he'll sort things out like he always does. Boone's good at that… Boone will… be back… Boone will…_

_"Just go. It'll be fun! When's the last time you went out with the boys?" Dianne nudged Annie's shoulder with her own, arms filled with boxes of Abraxo. "Why do you even need me to talk you into it? You love caravan raids."_

_Annie stared her down, pursing her lips._

_"I know."_

_"Hey Anna! You coming out or what?" Jessup called from behind her, wiping his dusty hands on his jeans. He was clustered together with two other men, varying in heights and hair colours but all wearing the same rags. _

_Chance was behind him, pupils lit with a fresh hit of psycho; the big man's muscles jumping under his skin in excitement. Annie had only gotten home that afternoon and he had already fucked her twice._

_The girl nodded, floating off to hover behind the group – silent with thoughts of anything exhilarating just to get the adrenalin pumping. She felt strangely content, still almost – like her heart was beating slower and her blood was barely draining through. Her hands were like ice in the warm Mojave air._

_By the time she had blinked, they were already at their posts; smoking cigarettes behind a burnt out bus on the road towards the 188. Malcolm was sharpening his knife with a smooth stone, the cherry of his smoke jumping with the words of a song they had heard on the radio back at Dianne's camp. _

_"We got something." Jessup twitched his fingers, urging Chance over. "Doesn't look like a caravan though. No brahmin, no nothin'."_

_Chance grunted in return, tugging the tip of Annie's vest to pull her along. _

_"If they're walking this time of night, they've gotta have somethin'" Malcolm shook his head, flicking the butt of his smoke off into the empty shell of a bus. "Fuck 'em, caps is caps."_

_"They'll have passports with them." The blond rumbled from her right. _

_Three figures were heading down the highway, one hunched under a heavy bag under the dim moon. It was only a quarter that night, sliced with a beautiful curve that hid behind the dainty clouds. Malcolm was humming his tune, turning the taped handle of his knife between his palms. The four of them were poised to pounce, Annie's little action plan playing out like a slow production… she could feel each brush of the night air on her bare arms… Everything was so surreal…_

_Jessup and Malcolm stalked around the back of the bus, hiding behind a shuddery piece of scrap metal as they glanced over the sudden arrival. Annie slipped over to the opposite side, slithering across the road unnoticed by the three. As they came closer into view, Annie figured out that it was a man and two women – one old and one young. The man in the middle was carrying the heavy bag; a rifle clutched in his hands like his life depended on it. It was brave to even think about travelling at night in Khan Country. _

_Chance stepped out onto the middle of the road, his behemoth frame stretching like a deathclaw ready to pounce. The women cowered at the sight, retreating behind their middleman._

_"What's in the bag?" The blonde's voice came out in a low growl, as it always did. The man raised his rifle suddenly, taking aim for Chance's chest before the squeal of the young girl caught his attention. In the sudden shock, Annie had managed to throw her arm around her neck, lurching her back into a chokehold. Malcolm apprehended the man from behind, using the weight of the pack to over-balance him. The old woman, a shrivelled old thing that looked like she had barely fight left in her, had her arm grabbed by Jessup._

_Throwing the pack to Chance, Malcolm tugged the man to his knees and unknotted the bandana around his forehead, twisting it around the wrists of the captive. He salvaged the shitty assault rifle, looking it over in the pale moonlight._

_Annie pushed the girl onto all fours, tugging her back up by the raggedy travelling cardigan she had wrapped around her shoulders. Jessup (still a gentleman under all that grit) kept the old one on her feet. _

_"Passports." Chance grunted, pulling out the three tattered books. He flicked through them, searching for the NCR bear embossed into the second page from the front. "NCR citizens."_

_"That means we'll be takin' ya caps." Malcolm smacked the man on the back of the head with the butt of his knife. "And whatever else ya got to offer."_

_"Just take whatever you want." The old woman groaned, bruising under Jessup's loose grip. _

_"_Mother_." The man hissed. The old woman sent a scathing look at her son, untwisting her grizzled lips into a thin line._

_"Just take what you want, and let us go." _

_"Now that ain't no fun." Malcolm complained as Chance dug through the pack. "We get to have a little sample of the goods, right?" The Khan tucked the knotted man's neck towards the young girl with his blade. _

_"Fuck you." The son shuddered with anger. "_Fuck _you." The man had bright blue eyes. Annie could tell by the way the clouds reflected so clearly off them under the beaming light of the moon. Malcolm cracked him again with the taped butt, Blue Eyes groaning and slumping forward to retrieve his senses. _

_Annie watched the old woman's gaze dart over Chance's hands, the young Khans' eyes taking in all the elements of the elderly lady. She reminded her of Nanna, the way the lines crinkled at the corner of her mouth when she spoke. _

_Jessup was leaning forward to get a better look into the traveller's bag, his jet eyes not on the job. Annie noticed his grip slipping from the woman's arm, the old lady sending looks to her son. As all the Khans, bar one, picked apart the backpack, Blue Eyes and Nanna were scheming. Their eyes were locked, communicating through eerily similar bright blue stares._

_The old lady suddenly broke away from Jessup, snatching off on the turn of her heel. She had speed to her, her shitty leather shoes patting off into the close distance as she made her break for it. Annie couldn't help but grin… Any woman over 50 in the wastes was a tough bitch. The young girl was sobbing by now, shoulders shuddering miserably as her cries covered up the light footfalls of the sprinting Nanna._

_Jessup cried out, snapping Chance's neck up and Malcolm's new gun out of its holster. The tanned man, still humming that fucking tune under the bright moonlight, aimed the assault rifle at the distance and sprayed without a second thought. _

_Nanna dropped to the ground. _

_The girl started to cry louder, Blue Eyes cringing quite roughly at the sound of the woman's bubbling groans a few metres down. There was a howl of coyotes around the canyons, startled into a prowl at the sporadic gunshots._

_"Shit dude, you just shot an old lady!" Jessup backed away from Malcolm, unsteady on his feet as the peak of his high began to set in. _

_"Bitch tried to fuckin' run." Malcolm tapped the hot barrel on Blue Eye's blond hair. "That's a fuckin' lesson for ya. Jess, go drag the old girl back."_

_The redhead obliged begrudgingly, trudging off into the darkness to slide the old lady back by her ankles. With the shifting dirt and the digging in the bag, Malcolm's dizzy humming was drowned out._

_Annie watched Blue Eyes bite back some form of tears as Jessup pulled his mother up beside him, her dress ridden up over her torso and stained with sand. Dropping the ankles with a _thud, _Jessup returned to the bag, crouching down next to Chance to pull apart the small medical kit wrapped in old blankets. _

_"Anythin' good?" Malcolm was stroking Blue Eye's hair with the barrel, parting it almost mockingly. _Good little NCR boys always grew up big and strong!

_"Some stims, med-x, uh, look at that! That's alotta caps." _

_"Count 'em." Chance grunted, making eye contact with Malcolm. The Hispanic man grinned._

_"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin', Chancey?" The Khan with the moustache cleaned his teeth with his tongue. The blond looked up, Malcolm like a looming god from his short view. Although the man was big, Chance was incredibly easy to influence if you had the right grip on him. Malcolm was too charismatic to stop some days. "Anna, watch the man." _

_Chucking the girl the gun, Malcolm kicked the man over face first into the gravel to savour the sputtering cry from old Blue Eyes. The young woman in her grip went to flee at her sudden freedom, only to be seized by the man with the knife at her chest._

_"Come on, sweetheart. I won't hurt ya." He flicked the blade towards the bus. "Over there, honey, right in front of it. Lay down for me." He gave her a sticky grin. "And don't fuckin' try to run."_

_Annie rolled the cool barrel between her fingers, staring over at Blue Eyes with no tact. He was only young, maybe mid-twenties. Definitely older than Annie, but still didn't know any better than spitting at Malcolm's feet. The Khan roared and gave him a rib-splitting kick in the side with his newly upholstered steel cap boots. _

_"And jus' for your little fuckin' brother, I will hurt ya." He called to the girl who was shivering by the bus with a stony faced Chance. She cringed, tears squeezing down her face and dotting the off-pink cardigan. _

_Annie's finger on the trigger of the rifle was steady, slightly fidgeting with every wave of calm that flooded her system – like a cold cloth on her forehead as her fever burned deliriously. Blue Eyes drooled blood for a while, rolling onto his back to watch the starry sky with bleary eyes. Malcolm stalked off and the jingle of caps rang in the back of her head, Jessup attempting to count past eleven quietly under his breath._

_Blue Eyes struggled to breath, chest raising with a shudder only to sink miserably back down._

_"That's my wife, you know?" He spoke quietly, just over the gurgle of the blood in his lungs. Annie and Jessup glanced over. "We're heading for the Strip… They say it's better than Nipton. My mother-…" he stopped, shutting his eyes. "My mother was coming to live with us… I told them walking at night would be safer… less traffic on the streets."_

_"You forgot about us, huh?" Jessup muttered happily. "Twelve… Twelve… Thirteen?"_

_"Oh god-" Blue Eyes choked out. "This is my fault. I'm so sorry, dad." His breath swept to the moon, finding Annie's undivided attention. "I'm so sorry… Etta." The girls sobs were louder and jolted, a yelp at each intrusive thrust from whichever Khan got in first. It took one to hold the girl down, and the other got a free for all on whatever the woman could offer. _

_Caravan raids were easier, more fun… Hijacks on the side of the road always ended up with some poor girl left silent in the dust. Annie liked the idea of tipping NCR caravans, set them on fire and make the soldiers watch all while scaring the brahmin off into the distance with a loud slap on the hide. Then they'd leave the troop tied-up in the middle of the desert with one bottle of water and no medicine, and wait for them to crawl back to base so the big bosses could get unhappy about it. _

_Anything to rile the bastards up._

_"Thirteen… Fourteen? Fifteen. Sixteen!" _

_Blue Eyes craned his neck to look over at Annie, catching her curious stare._

_"My names Danny." His words stayed soft, tears cleaning small slides of his face. "My mother's name is… was Beatrice." Danny cleared his throat, staring back up into the universe. "My wife's name is Etta."_

_"Shut it." Annie snapped. The man shut his eyes, praying to god that the sound of counted caps would drown out his wife's pleas for mercy. There was a quick grunt from a male's throat, Annie recognising Chance's sudden gasp of climax. _

_Her jaw tensed, eyes darting to the dirt. _

_"Why do you do this?" Danny spoke again. "People are always telling me that…" (wheeze) "…Khans are just raiders with their brains still in tact."_

_"I think the girl told you to shut up." Jessup barked. "Fuck! … One, two…"_

_"You're going to kill me anyway." Blue Eyes countered. The redhead grunted, burying himself back into the cap purse. Annie let her brows rise as Danny turned back to her. "Just let us go. We won't cause any trouble. We'll go straight to where we're going and never talk about it again."_

_She spat a laugh at him._

_Danny coughed again. "There's more to life than this. There has to be." He spoke openly to the sky now. "There has to be more… there… _has_… to… be."_

_"Hey, what the fuck—" Malcolm was staggering around, belt buckle half undone in his hands. A blur of white struck past her, Danny's wife staggering past as she attempted to run with her underwear around her ankles. Somehow Etta had managed to outsmart the two men while their backs were turned, Chance slumped in the dirt as he came down from orgasm that rode on psycho. "Fuckin' shoot her Anna! Anna, get your fuckin' gun!"_

_Danny had rolled onto his stomach, one hand free of the rotting bandana that had been binding him. He must have been undoing it as he talked as a distraction. Blue Eyes had already reached her, cracking his skull into hers as he stumbled up onto two legs. The man must have had combat training, Annie falling back into the dirt seeing stars as the gun was snatched from her hands. Jessup lunged for Danny, spilling caps all over the bitumen before getting a boot to the nose. The two young Khans lay in the dirt, spun out on their chems and headaches. _

_Annie could barely think as the _ratatatat _echoed through the desert, her mind only on Danny's last words. _There's more to life than this… there has to be more…. there… has… to… be…_ The stars stared down at her like sickly imps, the moon curved into a smile that taunted her even from such heights. She had to shut her eyes._

_Jessup was up again, shakily pulling his pistol from his side as he squinted in the darkness. Danny was standing over Malcolm, his rifle pointed down at the struggling man's chest. The Khan was gagging and kicking, dust clouds forming around his heavy foots. _

_The redhead capped Blue Eyes three times in the chest just as he managed to look back over._

_"Danny!" Etta shrieked from the distance, running back over without thought. Chance watched her sprint from his haze in the dust. "Danny, no! Oh my god, Danny, what have you done?!" She slid out beside her gasping husband, their young bodies falling together as the woman wailed. The sound gave Annie chills. _

_Jessup shot again – picking the girl off right between the eyes._

_The body fell and Danny let out one last choke, his wife spilling over him in a rush of red and brain matter. All was black as Annie laid there, Jessup's gasps and groans rumbling over Malcolm's tune in her head. Chance was pulling himself up, tugging up his jeans to snap the belt buckle into place._

_Malcolm took his last breath under the quarter moon - carried back over Chance's shoulder. No one spoke on the way home, Jessup's forearms incredibly itchy and raw. Annie packed her bags that night. _

There has to be more… _she thought, pressing in pounds of chew tobacco and all the water she could find into her mother's backpack... _there has to be.


	32. Chapter 32

_Hello hello, my friends! I'm sorry I disappeared for a while there - I didn't exactly mean to I just kept writing and everything sounded terrible. So today, in a fit of angsty writers block, I forced out this 18 page long piece of goofy shit that made me feel tender emotions and made me laugh at my own great jokes (I really hope you can forgive me)_

_Any comments and criticisms are always welcome in my book. You don't have to worry about me sobbing horribly anymore (you can't hear it through the screen anyway) so help me out and tell me how I'm doing. I will also attempt to answer any critics because I only realised you could reply directly very late in the game and I've been a little lazy._

_Alright, here we go._

**_Crying - Roy Orbison / Saving My Love For You - Kay Starr / Apply Some Pressure - Mark Ronson's 'Version'_**

* * *

Boone and Veronica returned home two days later in the early morning. The sun was just rising over the strip through the thickening clouds, the sky still pink and plush like the morning they had left. Veronica was tired and sore, falling victim to a muddy sinkhole on the way back from Jacobstown. Boone was just excited to claim a sleep that wasn't stiffened by paranoia. The two were let down by the idea that they had to go scoop out a new brain for Rex – preferring to head home for the night so they could restock and rejuvenate. It just felt too weird without Annie.

They got along fine, sure. It wasn't weird or anything. It was just… stagnate without the courier. Boone didn't get Veronica's jokes half the time and Veronica grew weary of never getting a hit in with the sniper around. With Annie around, the man's attention never faltered from his partner and the scribe would have been free to punch things without a bullet embedded in it ten seconds before she could reach it. Veronica liked Boone though – he was easy to please and never spoke out of turn.

The elevator opened to a dark room that reeked of whiskey and cigarettes and something floral, blankets strewn out of doorways and the bathroom's fan systems whirring at full ball. But the air was crisp with relaxation, like the two had missed out on a whopping love and peace festival. Veronica flitted over to check the bedrooms, where she found Cass and Raul passed out happily in their respective beds.

Boone leant in to check on Annie, Rex darting between his legs to take up space on the weapons trunk at the end of their bed. The sniper couldn't seem to find the courier buried beneath their blankets and in a fit of worry he turned on the light. Much to his disgust, the bed was empty and still freshly made, just like he had left it three mornings ago. He dumped his pack on the floor and turned around to find Veronica, his gut sitting terrible at the thought of leaving Annie to deal with the NCR alone.

Knowing Annie, she had gotten herself arrested and was awaiting her trial. That, or she had finally lost it and returned back to the desert to live a life of marauding and killing things for no reason. He honestly should not have expected any less – and the irritating idea of knowing he could have stopped anything bad from happening began to rot in his head. The sniper let a loud breath slip out of his nose and the scribe appeared by his side, cocking her head silently.

"No Annie?"

"No."

The woman thought for a moment, stretching out her potato sack arms with a yawn before flopping them back down to her side with a loud _slap. _"Check upstairs. Cass says she's there."

"Guys, I'm in the bathroom." Annie's tired voice rang out from down the hall, sleepily dragging over the vowels as she attempted to sniff away what seemed to sound like a cold. Boone turned on his heel and greeted her in the doorway, met with the clean face of the courier who appeared to have just gotten out of the bath. She looked absolutely wrecked; large brown eyes half-shut and watery, followed by her hands that usually only shook so bad when she was holding a gun. Annie was leaning against the wooden frame, towel wrapped around her middle in attempt to hide what was usually so public.

Boone tried to remember a time when Annie had looked so tortured, but he could call nothing to mind. He placed his hand in the space between her shoulder blades and helped her wobble towards their bedroom. Annie's skin felt like she was on fire, burning through the pads of his fingers with every shudder that rolled across her seemingly fairer skin.

"Night Veronica~" Annie drawled softly as Boone pushed her into the room, his mind jumping to conclusions about the courier's previous two days as Veronica simply grinned.

"Night boss. Feel better, okay?"

"I feel fine." Annie had grumbled from the corner of the room, Boone shutting the door behind them as he leant back onto the hard wood. The courier ditched her towel, abandoning it by the foot of the bed as she crawled onto the mattress. "To be honest with you Boone, I'm pretty sure I'm dying." She muttered as she attempted to press herself up with her elbows – failing miserably as her head flopped back onto the bed.

"Been sleeping?" The sniper asked, pushing forward to towards Annie's cupboard. Pulling out bundles of fabric, he decided on a light nightdress to keep her temperature down and tossed it gently over her. She grunted quietly in thanks.

"I haven't been able to." She answered, slow fingers gingerly gripping the fabric as her tired eyes attempted to find the end of the dress so she could pull it over her head. She failed quickly, laying back unhappily as she embraced the sheets in a fit of tiredness. "I think I fell asleep in the-" (her yawn reverberated off the walls) "-bath though…"

Boone couldn't even begin his usual show of watching the girl flounce around, thoroughly disturbed by her shuddering eyelids and hitched breathing – the courier appearing to be severely beaten down and very lethargic about life. It wasn't Annie's usual tune, and the sniper began to work a scenario in his brain where he could get her to curl up in bed (fully dressed and content) and have her sleep the day away. She seemed to need it.

"I had a bad dream while you were gone." She started up again, managing to force herself upright, turning the nightdress in her hands in attempt to find the arm-holes. "I realize why I left now… the Khans…uh."

"Bad?" He asked politely as he stepped towards her, setting the material straight and holding it over her head. She obliged quietly, burrowing into the slip and embracing the soft sheen of silk. Annie let out a happy groan, looking up at the man with a glint of admiration before setting her gaze onto her cold feet.

The girl fell back onto the bed and crossed her legs over, rubbing her hands over her tired face sporadically and almost painfully, as if the thought pinched at nerves. Her hand wrapped and tangled through her longing bangs and tugged softly. "Could be worse." She started, clenching her fist to feel the sting of pulled hair. "Could be better, too. I know who I am now, I suppose... " (yawn) "Come to bed with me?"

"It's five in the morning, Anna." The man gave her a soft sigh as her face fell, buried instantly by ten rows of shivering fingers.

"Please?" Her voice was muffled and aching through small gaps of hands.

He semi-obliged and pulled up the desk chair beside her, taking a detour around the dresser again to pull out some undergarments to keep the girl decent. She took them begrudgingly, still buried under her hands and shaking like a little girl in trouble.

"Oh Boone, is it bad of me to have no remorse for the people I've killed?" She asked suddenly, tugging on her bangs even harder that time.

"That's how we survive around here." He spoke quietly, lighting a quick smoke before leaning on his knees. Even after losing his thrilling adrenaline rush that had birthed from two weeks of Legion hunting, Boone still felt comfortable comforting Annie. He felt he didn't need a clear head to talk to her, because sorting out her little issues cleared his own. The sniper had grown quite fond of that fact, filling his blank mindtime over the past two days with the babbling courier.

He shouldn't have let her stay alone, he figured. He felt terrible about that, but in saying that Annie did put her foot down quite sternly on that one. It appeared over the last week or so, since the courier had inherited the Strip, that Annie was constantly on the brink of a tantrum. He'd never seen Annie at the peak of her personality, like the others (Manny, or Cass) had described to him before – and that worried him just a little. When she was with him and him alone, she only threw childlike-fits that consisted of her getting sulky and pacing like an upset mother.

"Yeah… but… I dunno, Boone, what about the people you could have saved but didn't?"

The man kept his steady eye on her, the girl tossing from side to side in irritation at her own behavior. It was like the energy was pushing through the tips of her fingers and toes, her own limbs tensing and twitching with the current of her condensed feelings. Her own fingers were back to gripping the hair on the back of her head, eyes shut and brows screwed together as if she had been trapped in the worlds most uncomfortable place.

Boone felt the same, suddenly aware of his entire being. Did she know what had happened? What he had done? Annie was never one for dancing around the subject though… never dressed things up. She had to be talking about herself. There's no way she knew, right? His body was rigid and he could feel the blood pumping through his system, spurred on and probably catching all the uncomfortable tension that was radiating off Annie.

He had to calm down and get his head back solid so he could set Annie to sleep. That would fix her, easily.

"I spend all day thinking about how I'm gonna try and help fix this stupid desert up and then I remember that I'm not the person who I think I am, you know?" She sat up suddenly, curling around her torso to snatch the cigarette from his fingers. She took a deep breath in, exhaling in a set of coughs before she buried her fist in her mouth. "Like how am I supposed to get these people to trust and help me when they know, and _I _know, who I am and what I've done. There's something else in my head, like I can feel it, Boone…

"… I was a part of something big, I can feel it. There was this long road-" her arm moved forward and back, fingers dragging the smoke through the air in dizzied patterns as the sniper fought to hear every word she quickly breathed "-and I walked it so many times and now I don't walk it anymore and I think I'm going crazy, Boone." She turned and caught his gaze, the man taken aback by the sadness and fear in her eyes that had just made their very first début. She looked as if she was to cry but nothing came. "I don't think I'm cut out for this."

"This coming from the mouth of a woman who hasn't slept in two days." Boone forced out the words perfectly, capturing his stony persona to a T. He was glad he had the strength to force that out – he didn't he could deal with Annie in that state. What was that? Boone knew she could talk underwater but that was insane. "I think you should get some rest. It will make you feel better."

"You think so?" She breathed, retracting her teeth from her knuckles, eyes shining like a deer in the headlights.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Come on. Sleep." He ushered her back down, pulling the blanket from underneath her and setting it at her feet. The girl looked stupidly at him and pulled an upset face.

"Will you do me a favor?" She asked quietly as he began to back away, the man watching her body rise from the dead one last time that night.

"Sure."

"Will you take my pipboy and plug it in to Yes Man for me? It's in the bathroom." He slipped out of the door and leant in to turn off the light. "Take Veronica with you!"

* * *

After spending ten or so minutes shifting books and pieces of scrap electronics from the super computer, Veronica finally accomplished syncing of files. The two companions stood awkwardly in what had turned into Annie's chamber – a brightly lit bachelor-pad lived in by a book-hoarding, noodle-eating courier who had given herself cabin fever by staring out at the revolving outer world.

Yes Man greeted them both with a creepy enthusiasm, having being put in the friendly pile in the computer's system the first night of Annie's reign. Boone didn't like the look of the eerie bastard that stared back down at him. He honestly didn't blame Annie for going a little weird.

Veronica clipped and pressed the pipboy around her wrist, powering it up to illuminate the dead-on-his-feet vault boy. The scribe let out a tired sigh as she flicked to check the file sharing. "She's been living on NukaCola and noodles for two days. You think this is how House started?"

The sniper pulled a face and folded his arms. "If that's true, we should probably stop this."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate living in a cryogenic chamber." The girl grinned and popped the clamps from her arm, rolling the machine off and into her palm.

"I think that's the last thing she wants." The sniper straightened up, heading over to check out the view from straining glass windows. The realization of their height above ground made him a little sick, edging back a few paces before Veronica joined him.

"You're getting that vibe too, huh?" She pulled up an orange sofa chair and rested her elbows on it. Boone looked at her awkwardly. "About Annie. She's getting weird."

"Yep."

Boone wanted to avoid that conversation. Maybe Veronica needed a sleep as well. The scribe was twisting dials and pressing buttons on the courier's pipboy, humming a small tune as she thought something over. She perked when she came to a conclusion.

"Take Annie to get that brain with you. I'll stay here and look after the place, make sure everything is running smoothly."

Boone thought the offer over very quickly, picking up one large flashing caution sign that made him take two steps out of a weird fantasy and into one of sneaking suspicion. Although Annie seemed to trust the Brotherhood scribe with her life, Boone still understood that if the old faction decided it wanted its hands on Annie's treasure trove then Veronica was going to be the one to do the duty. The look on his face made the scribe guffaw horrendously.

"Don't worry. If I burn the 38 down at least you'll see the flames from Novac." The brunette drawled easily, earning a stiff look from the sniper. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, we can all take up shack at the Wrangler for a few days. Lock the tower until you guys get back."

The sniper gaped over the thought for another moment, chewing over the rushing ideas of Annie not being a rabbling imbecile for more than a day. The thought that bothered him the most was the fact that it was going to be just them again. If they brought Cass along, the two rowdy women would get him killed. Raul would be a nice change to the scenery but the sarcasm would grate them both down. It would have to be just them – just like old times – an attempt to get the girl back on two feet so she didn't crash and burn miserably under only the beginning of immense pressure.

Sometimes Boone forgot that the sad woman pawing at his chest was the last hope for the Mojave. In a little area that was bubbling with tension (he could barely feel it up in Jacobstown but that was before they were nearly assassinated on the way home) Annie was the mediator. She didn't want it but she was rotting her brain to try and help. The mucky shape of Annie in his mind cleared itself for a moment –the man realizing that she was more important to him than he made her out to be.

She wasn't just sniveling Annie… she was the courier – spreading whispers of hope around the dusty towns that really did need it.

Feeling enlightened by the idea of some quality time with the number three (although the only remaining) woman in his life (third behind his mother and Carla), Boone nodded in acceptance, pressing back on the tip of his foot to push towards the elevator.

* * *

The four companions were gathered at the kitchen table, drinking light liquor and gabbling about the political situation in their current desert. Boone, a firm man for the NCR, was facing an ever-growing battle against the three other fairly neutral teams. Cass was bitching about the balls of the McLafferty woman while Veronica tittered on about the use of NCR force in Primm. The sniper was not a man of words, so he found himself gathering and storing the sloped side of personal opinion – one that was not his own.

Halfway through a general discussion about the current state of the Mojave Outpost, the bedraggled courier appeared in the door frame. Wrapped in a powder blue jacket and her nightdress slip, Annie pushed her spastic hair from her forehead and beamed in appearance.

"Hey guys. How much of the story did I miss?" The courier asked, skimming past them all to dig around in the fridge, returning with some squirrel on a stick. She had her pipboy singing a soft tune, glowing with electric amber notes and lists.

"Only a few paragraphs, boss." Raul returned, earning him a whopping grin from the black-haired woman. She plonked down at the head of the table, right beside the grinning scribe and the pink-cheeked redhead. Annie skimmed a drink of Veronica's sarsaparilla, making quick eye-contact with her sullen looking partner.

"Alright, well, now that I feel a thousand times better," the courier leant forward, flicking a few dials on her pipboy to mute the music " straight to business. I have been working on an action plan for the next few weeks. I figure you'll all take this pretty well considering the amount of bottles I see."

"Just get it over with." Cass muttered and shot Annie a cheeky grin, the courier returning it gratefully.

"Before I start, I want to thank Boone and Veronica for going to Jacobstown with Rex." The woman flattened her palms on the table, pushing off an air of professionalism – making the four companions break out in short sharp laughter. Annie wasn't fazed, pressing forward with an even bigger row of teeth. "And thanks for putting me to bed, too. I think I nearly thought myself stupid."

"No problem, boss." Veronica cooed, ruffling up happily. Boone nodded at her blankly.

"How was Jacobstown?" Annie continued. The scribe brightened and then faltered, both pleased and confused at Annie's sudden pulse of leadership. Boone beat her to it.

"We found the man who does the surgery. Just have to find a dog with a good brain."

Annie thought for a second, confused at the concept before leaning back into her chair. "Where do we get one of those?"

"I'm guessing you find a dog, boss." Raul interjected and Annie rolled her eyes openly at the old ghoul.

"I'll get mine one day, old man." She waved her finger at him before sniggering away. "I guess we'll go find a dog. Any old dog or a certain dog?"

"We were thinking that old trash yard near Novac." Veronica piped up.

"Old Lady Gibson." Boone added.

"She has a lot of dogs." The scribe finished.

"Alright, Old Lady Gibson is gonna give us one of her dogs. Easy. Okay, now we get down to business."

"State your case, boss." Cass slapped her hand on the table and Annie giggled away, swatting the air.

"Please don't call me that, you know how much it bothers me."

"That's why we do it, boss."

Annie squinted at them all until she felt it necessary to stop, folding herself to read her pipboy under the harsh fluorescent lights of the kitchen. "I've been thinking, while Boone and Veronica were gone and in light of my sudden treaty with the NCR, that with the—whats that word? I can't spell anything." She pressed her nose to the screen "with the _stability _of whatever the hell is going on in this place, that its time to start to pull things together. Alright. Cass,

"I need you specifically to do me a huge favour. You know enough about caravans to get one up and running again. If you're up for it again."

"Before you go any further, Annie, let me remind you that I don't work for anyone but myself." The caravaneer kicked back in her seat, rocking on the two back feet. "So don't think you can roll in here and start bossin' me around."

"I thought you'd say that." The courier rubbed the ugly welt on her head, eyes rolling in their sockets. "Listen, I'm gonna give you some caps to start up your business again. I don't want any of your profits and I don't want nothin' to do with your work ethic. I just need you to take some stuff places for me. I know I can trust you not to mess with the stock."

The redhead sat the chair on four legs instantly, eyes narrowed cautiously at the serious looking courier.

"I'm not going to put you on the spot, so I don't want an answer now. Just think about it."

"What's in it for you?"

"I already said that, Cass." The courier pulled a straight face before taking the first bite of her warming dinner. "I don't want nothin' but someone to move my stuff around."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Scrap metal mostly." Annie shrugged. "Need it up to Nellis, cause they're building that aeroplane… some to North Vegas to keep the fence up. Just around small towns, keep the caps moving."

The four companions watched the courier closely, not having heard a serious idea from the woman's mouth in, well, never.

"My plans are still in the first steps so don't expect any miracles straight away." The courier sighed. "We just have so many resources, it would be a real waste to let them sit there and rot."

"Don't overdo it, Anna." Boone noted in monotone from the back of the cluster, earning a group nod. "We have bigger things to think about."

"Yeah." The courier nodded. "That's what I'm doing. If those Boomers get that plane running then we have a mighty powerful ally if those red bastards try anything."

Veronica looked at the sniper, the man returning a look just as bland as the courier tattered on about something ridiculous ("What if they even dropped mininukes?!"). They both mentally agreed to Veronica's proposition – they were to get Annie out of the casino and into the wild. They had to turn her back into the loudmouthed asshole that would rather beat the shit out of people than help them.

It was decided – Boone was to take Annie to Novac for a while. A holiday to clear the woman's head.

* * *

"I don't, uh, like the look of those clouds, Boone." Annie didn't seem to want to leave the casino. A few days of soaking up all things technological, the courier seemed to have gained a slight fear of nature. The sky seemed blue as could be, pinking in the sunset as the bright bulb of light sank into the distance. Boone had found it to be better to travel at night - the rain dying down around five in the afternoon. It was much safer to avoid being lost in the thick Mojave rain.

Annie was bouncing on her fairly new leather boots, keen to get out onto the road to Novac but shaking in her shoes at the thought of being away from the giant dock of information in her casino. Up in there she had a reading on everything – she basically knew everything. Yes Man had freed up thousands upon thousands of House's old files and she hadn't even made a dint in them yet.

Although, she did feel a little worn down after staring at Yes Man's strange face all day. She could not deny that her brain felt like it could have walked out on her and never returned.

Annie was very excited, however, to be with Boone for a while. They had been strained for time with each other ever since the other three moved in. There was no doubt in her mind that one of the things that bothered her the most nowadays was the fact that he wasn't around as much. It wasn't his fault though, she supposed.

After that pitiful dream in the Wrangler bed, Annie had resigned herself to behind her computer. There was nothing in her head other than the upset screaming of Danny's wife. It horrified her that it could have just as easily been Boone and his wife, or Cass and her caravan… She spent those two days curled up on a bar chair, reading everything she could about the Mojave and what made it tick. Annie made a promise to herself the moment she woke up that afternoon, and realised that was there _was _something more out there. There definitely was more. And if she could do anything to help, she would do it with passion.

Those long roads in her mind made her gut ache harder than when she thought about Danny and Malcolm… and she still had another four or so years missing from her life. _It just kept going._

But still… a few days out with Boone wouldn't hurt her.

Somewhere between the 188 and Novac, Boone and Annie became very aware of the rocking clouds that seemed to swoop in above them. At first the winds were sending them towards the Outpost, but in the last minute they appeared to redirect themselves towards the two travellers. There was flashing in the night sky followed by a quick and deep rumble, sending the robotic dog spasmodic and whimpering.

The sniper was quick to act, tugging Annie's pipboy for a quick confirmation of the area. "El Dorado's up ahead." He nodded in the direction, struggling to keep steady as Rex attempted to hide between his legs. "If it gets any worse we can stop in there."

"I thought you said it would be better to travel at night…" Annie frowned at her companion, slightly terrified by the oncoming darkness chewing up the usually bright stars. She'd watched the previous nights storm in horror from the giant windows of the casino.

"Can't predict the weather." He grunted back from behind her, keeping a keen eye on the windy distance. There were no animals in sight – a bad sign to say the least. He had been too keen to leave the casino, so he hadn't thought his plan through well enough.

But in saying that, he really couldn't predict the weather. It could have been perfectly sunny at three in the morning and he wouldn't have questioned it.

A harsh gust of wind blew up the road towards them, exploding Annie's ponytail into a rush of thick, black curls. Boone chewed the inside of his bottom lip, taking a glance behind them before speeding up to catch the courier.

"Let's get into that gas station before it hits."

"Oh, so _now_ it's gonna hit, Mr. I-can't-predict-the-weather." The courier frothed, tripping over a shuddering Rex. The sniper shook his head at her, _no time for your sass, woman, _tugging the girl along softly with her arm in his grip. The quicker he got them both inside, the quicker they avoided some hectic Mojave wasteland fairy tale that usually ended up being realer than necessary. The last story he heard had contained a deathclaw, gale force winds and an unsuspecting NCR soldier.

Rex was pattering strangely in front of them, speeding up suddenly and slowing back down, as if suffering incredible lag. After a while of the speed walking, Annie decided to scoop down and pick the poor creature up, feeling sorry for the half-brain-dead dog. He had a fair bit of weight to him, slowing Annie down a great deal as the two partners were hassled by the ever-increasing winds.

Boone skidded her to a stop only a few feet from the garage door. Although the wind had fought most of Annie's hair from her ponytail, the courier could still squint along the snipers pointed arm to see the flashes of red in the desert behind the building. The man pushed her away to the building, the woman sprinting off to set the dog down on the front steps before returning to her man's side.

The sniper had his eye down his scope, harassed by the whipping sand and pressed sideways by the hustling gusts. He managed to line up his shot, firing tightly to pick off one of the red-coated bastards that were belting towards them from the distance. There was a spatter of gunshots over the whistling wind.

"I can't help you if you don't bring them over here." Annie had wrenched her sledge from her back, suddenly eager to crush someone's skull. She had forgotten how intoxicating a rush of adrenaline was. Rex let out a rough bark from behind them, drawing Annie's attention to a leathered-up idiot swinging a crowbar at her head.

The courier stepped out-of-the-way and swung her body to annihilate the suddenly there Viper. The man staggered away as Boone's rifle cracked into the distance again, the companions stiffened and sharp from the sudden threat of two common enemies. The man hunched over, his leather armour suddenly bursting with a couple of sharp ribs and a blobbing rush of blood.

The viper stumbled back towards her, finding strength to wretch the bar above his head to bring it down on Annie's outstretched forearm. The woman hissed for a second, angered, looking back up at the viper with evened eyes. She ditched the sledge and jumped him.

Pushing his middle down to the ground, she dug her knees into his biceps and went to town on his face with her good arm. With her slightly crippled and majorly screaming arm she fought for the knife that was holstered on her hip. The man was flailing for his crowbar, his grunts drawing Boone's attention or a split second - the sniper scoping the situation quickly before deciding Annie had it under control.

Attempting to work out the angles of a nice and neat neck shot, Annie lined her knife awkwardly on the man's neck. She wasn't too excited to get her nicely cleaned armor soaked in some asshole's blood (although her knees where squelching in what appeared to be his guts). The poor struggling man beneath her gave her an awkward feeling in her stomach, almost guilty about ridding the world of whatever this guy was...

Boone's shots were becoming quite regular, clearing out a decent half of whatever Legion squad was coming their way, turning Annie shivering and nervous. Of course it would be their luck to be jumped by two different teams! Obviously they were to expect the Legion attack because of Boone's little incident... but Vipers? Just moments before she managed to dig the knife into the thrashing man's neck, Annie was seized by her curly pony tail, dragged backwards and off the lost cause.

She was met by the tip of what appeared to be a shining knife. The glint in the metal flashed with the burst in the sky.

Annie rolled out-of-the-way, staggering up to jump away awkwardly. "Boone!" she shrieked, lunging for her sledge. The man swung around and took the head off the bitch that was looming over Annie, just after the woman managed to cut a red ribbon down the front of the courier's armor. Annie burst out with a happy laugh and nodded in approval at the man, earning her a stern stare before he turned back around to deal with the impending situation.

The Legion men were only a few yards from them now, darting through the wind towards the two that were barely illuminated by the torch on Annie's pipboy. There was another clatter of thunder and a sheet of rain fell from the skies above, spattering over Boone's glasses. He holstered his gun.

Rex had latched onto the last Viper in the empty garage, dragging the screaming man from his ritual by the left leg. The thug was scrambling for his gun, stopped a moment short by the crushing force of Annie's sledge over his right arm. The howls of pain were drowned out by the sudden surge of water that wrecked all visuals.

Boone backed himself into the garage, taking shelter under the rotting roof as he scoped as hard as he could through the thick rain. He felt safe in the darkness of the garage, knowing full well that whoever was going to come in would be easy pickings for his limited range and ease of light. Annie flicked the light off her pipboy, stumbling over a pile of what appeared to be gutted rattlesnakes.

The courier cornered the dog and crouched around him while the sniper took a steady breath, sitting like a dumb duck waiting to be found. It killed him inside that he couldn't just run back out there and rip their faces off with his bare hands but that would be stupid. He had Annie to think about.

A body jumped in through the mist with the whirring of a ripper, suddenly decapitated by a well-aimed shot from the strong man in the soaking wet red beret. The saw rumbled and gurgled in the rain, running to a spitting stop as it grew waterlogged by the crushing drops.

There was another boom of thunder and a second man staggered in, taken out by a bullet through the shin before Boone lowered the scope and watched him twitch for a while. Annie observed in quiet, wondering how deep the strict severity had buried itself in Boone's mind. Throwing him her ratty 10mm, she watched on in silence as her partner shot out the knee of the Legion soldier, his muddy boots rolling the gagging man out into the throttling rain.

Gathering his backpack and companion, the sniper invited the courier to pry her way through the locked door in the garage.

After the sacrifice of three lock picks, Boone and Annie struggled to shut the door against the whipping winds, leaning back to scrape the wet sand from their faces as they attempted to calm down. The two hadn't been expecting such a quick and meaningful firefight - and Boone had proved himself once again by taking out an entire Legionary assassination team, sent directly for the two of them under order of Caesar. He did feel a little proud.

Annie seemed to enjoy the sudden peacefulness of the empty gas station. She wrapped Rex up in a ratty blanket and buried him under the counter; snuggling happily into the small, warm space. The girl then began to raid the shelves, wheeling toy cars away and cringing around cans of cram.

"We won't be starving, that's for sure." She muttered happily as the sniper stalked around the perimeter, crushing the radroach family breeding in the bathroom. The courier began to harvest a few blocks of bubblegum. "How come we've never come in here before?"

"Guess." Boone answered flatly from the office. The roof had begun to leak, dripping with clicks of metronome onto the linoleum floor. The courier sent him a polite laugh from the main room and turned to find him behind her, rifle in hand and glasses tucked into his front pocket. His face stayed in the same rocky demeanour as he brushed past her, starting to clean a corner for the two of them to curl up in.

"How long do you think it will last?" Annie asked, slivers of rain spitting on the floor up from the whirring whirlybird that appeared to be spinning out of control above them.

"What?" Boone looked up from his bag, halfway through pulling out dry clothes. His beret was tucked in his back pocket, glowing red in the dark room.

"The storm. Reckon we'll get out of here tonight?" She asked, catching a warm dress that she could stay decent in while they waited out the storm. He tugged off his shirt and changed it quickly, pinning it up on the highest shelf with a few slugs of scrap metal.

"No way to tell." He kicked an empty box of Sugar Bombs out-of-the-way and set himself down, tugging and adjusting his beret over his head "We'll have to wait it out."

He watched as she unzipped her armour, letting it slap the floor with puddles of water. The dress she pulled on was too long, hanging over her hands and hitting her lower calves so she looked like a lanky old maid. He sniffed a laugh at her when she pulled a face.

"Well then," she plonked down beside him, tucking her heels under her thighs as she waved a box at him "bubblegum?"

"No thanks." He patted it away midair and Annie sighed loudly, resting her head against the shaking walls as the box bounced away. "How long do you want to stay in Novac?"

"As long as we need, I suppose. Not too long, obviously." She turned to face him slowly. "Why? You wanna stay for a while?"

He thought about his words for a moment, breaking eye contact to focus on the rusty leg of a nearby set of shelves. "No."

"Alright." She nodded awkwardly. "If we get out by tonight, we'll stop by Old Bitch's and then we'll have a bit of a rest and go back to the 38. Deal?"

"Deal."

Annie folded her arms across her chest as silence swept over the room. All that could be heard was the faint roar of wind and the dense patter of rain on the tin roof, varying in intensity every few minutes.

Their closeness was like a furnace, pushing out heat and enveloping the room in what felt like a warm blanket. It had been a long time since they had been awake and in such close proximity of each other - like it had been a while ago. There was no Veronica or Cass sitting between them like they usually did; it was them and them only. The air prickled with some kind of tension.

"Just us again, huh?" Annie asked quietly as Boone lit himself a cigarette. When he bothered to look back down at her again, he was greeted by those round and intrusive eyes. They weren't brimming with whatever sycophantic glitter like they generally were, but with a warm, almost loving sheen. He fought to look away but he found he couldn't; rooted to the spot by his normally so reliable boots. "I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but I've missed it... You."

"S'alright." He muttered through the filter. "I get it." He drew his feet flat and rested his elbows on his bent knees. Annie looked him over quietly as she bundled her messy hair into her palms, squishing them to her cheeks as she thought for moment. She had so many things to say but nothing seemed important enough to be bothering him...

"I'm also real sorry if I freaked out on you the other day. I hope it wasn't too weird for you."

"Of course not." He asked simply, not wanting to scare her with a bunch of words. The whole thing didn't seem out of character anyway, Annie reading it as a supportive claim from the man's mouth.

"That memory was just really… vivid, I think. Yeah…" The girl trailed off, freeing her hair. She finished with an uncomfortable grunt. The man let her sit in silence to allow her to stew on her words, an old trick he'd picked up from his father when his mother had her few meltdowns. "I don't think I'll ever join the Khans again."

"You haven't gone back yet." Boone interjected, catching her gaze. She licked her bottom lip unhappily and twisted her fingers together in her lap. "Still want to?"

"I have to. I said I would. In fact, it's pretty bad that I still haven't gotten around to it." Annie's lips pursed and she scrubbed an itch from her nose, sniffing loudly before leaning over the sniper to snatch his cigarettes. "That's going on the list of things we need to do before we die."

"So we're dying together now?" He asked with a hint of humour in his voice and the girl beamed instantly, clicking the lighter to ignite her smoke in a burst of orange light.

"Would rather die with ya than without ya, Boone." She leant across to slug his shoulder with her good arm. "If that's okay with you, soldier." She added sourly at the end in a dig at his recent adventure.

"S'pose." He replied softly and the courier relaxed a little.

"This is nice. It hasn't been us in so long." She hit his shoulder again, pressing her smoke to her lips to suck in a lungful of tar. "I bet you miss it just as much as I do."

He sat silent for a moment, looking down at the girl then back to the shuddering window frames. Annie flicked the light back onto her pipboy, illuminating the room with the soft yellow bulb. "Got any alcohol in that bag?" He asked.

Her eyes lit up. "Of course I do." She crawled to the pack, retrieving a small jug of clear liquid.

"What is that?"

"Premium vodka, my friend." She shook it, the juice bubbling happily for a quick second before bursting into smaller, happier bursts of moisture. "Picked it fresh from James Garrett's sweaty hands."

"Sounds great." He said flatly as took the bottle and cracked the lid. He swirled it gingerly, neck tickled by the courier breathing over his shoulder. Boone could not deny he felt pretty good after his minor win over the Legion in earlier minutes, and figured that, well, perhaps a little off the edge would smooth things out real good.

Annie was packing the respect and responsibility of an 80-year-old war nurse, resting her chin on his shoulder but keeping a nice distance from the sweet spot under his ear. Was his judgment clouded by the surge of adrenalin still clinging in his blood cells? Possibly. Did it seem like a bad thing at the time? No. He was with the girl who he had recently realised wasn't as bad as he had originally thought; an enlightening experience… It was more confusing than it should have been.

Things could have and possible were suddenly showing in a new light, his brain flicking back to the first and foremost impression he had ever caught from the girl… Those dinner plate eyes, those thick eyebrows and that superfluous gap… all charming and slightly alluring and not the token symbol for the woman who ran his life. It was like someone had picked him up and placed him back at the start, but this time his first few steps were not marred by an overwhelming surge of guilt that came from never accomplishing much after his wife's death… He had ruined her life, and perhaps he would ruin Annie's but for now the courier seemed to be holding her own.

She had been sounding a little crazy lately but she was still holding it together. It was more than Boone could say about himself. The thought made him like her a little more, attuned to her senses like he was the night in the mouth of the dinosaur. He was drinking in the woman who was _something else, _something that wasn't monotonous Novac and sad-eyed Manny – the life he was imprisoned in before she came to his door.

Well, she forced herself through his door.

The courier snatched the bottle from his hands and returned to her flatbacked position, staring through a level in the shelf to take in the shadowy figures on a Sunset Sarsaparilla poster. She took a long, hard swig and gasped for air as it burnt her throat. She spluttered through the pain and passed it back to the sniper, bending forward to regain her senses.

They drank in silence for what seemed like hours, Annie lost in her thoughts about the Strip while Boone fought through bad memories and bad decisions in attempt to gain the courage to speak to Annie. He felt like he had nothing important to say, and everything that was actually important wouldn't dare leave his throat. He was not ready for Bitter Springs, and neither was she.

"This stuff is alright." He complimented in the broken silence after she turned on the radio to dull the white noise. The courier looked back up, squinting at him in the softened darkness while Rex sighed a sleepy dog sigh in the corner.

"Stronger than I remembered." She added, looking at the bottle and running her bitten nails along the etched label.

"What is it?"

"Same stuff I had that night you left for Cottonwood." The courier grinned, bumping his shoulder cheekily with her own before she caught the numb tip of her tongue between her teeth. "Hey Boone?" She asked quietly after they sat in silence for a short time.

"Yeah?"

"Because I got you drunk, can I ask you some things?" She tested the water with a shake of the bottle, the quarter-full juice-vessel sloshing almost comically beside her head. The sniper let out a long, tired sigh. "Cool, man. Real smooth." Annie grinned, reaching her fingers up to tickle the bangs from her eyes. She slicked them over her barely wet hair. "Did you really think you were going to die at Cottonwood?"

"Yes." He answered honestly and softly, barely audible over the crooning of some country star. The courier's face softened at the thought and she turned her neck to stare up at him easier. Her eyes were burning with questions, the teeth on her bottom lip tugging for answers…

"Would you have preferred to have died at Cottonwood?"

He thought about it in perfect silence, only startled into thought by the pitched yahoo of Mr New Vegas. "No. Probably not."

"Will you tell me next time before you go on a quest for blood rain?"

He scoffed a laugh at her, chest jumping as he rolled his eyes.

"I guess." He looked down at her and watched as her entire face brightened, cheeks red from the liquor and chest dewy from the quick shower. Annie let out a pleasant little laugh and ruffled her feathers, pleased with herself. They stared at each other quietly for a moment; the girl caught in the idea that maybe this was the right time to make her move. Even the screaming harlot in her was pushing forward, pressing her shoulders towards the man with every ounce of strength she had.

But Annie didn't move, lips slightly parted as she watched the man above her in deep thought that gave her the look of a troubled schoolgirl. The older man kept his eyes from sweeping over her freckled cheeks and kept a steady contact with her own gaze, occasionally dropping his sights to the rotating teeth sucking on the bottom lip.

"One more question?" She choked out suddenly, fighting the urge to simply pull him down onto her and make him her own. The man snapped out of it suddenly, leaning back a few inches before turning his head to stare blankly at the sarsaparilla poster.

"Hm?"

"Is it worth it?" Annie asked, running her fingers through her messy hair. The man looked tentatively back down at the girl, catching that hopeful stare of hers that had dragged him in not even ten minutes before.

"What?"

"You know… you?" She continued, scared of her own words. She was walking into uncharted territory as she spilled a little more of her own secrets to the sniper, catching his pupils dilate at the question. "I want to know if I'm fighting a lost cause, Boone… Do you think that this… Am I just waiting for nothing?"

The sniper found he was reaching for her hand, curling up her bitten nails and protecting the soft skin with his own larger set. He pressed her palm to his jaw and held it there for a moment, dragging her fingers across his chin to his mouth where he placed the faintest kiss on the tips of her fingers.

Annie's entire body ricocheted with goose bumps, her spine shivering as he returned her hand to his neck. He watched as the loving sheen returned to her eyes, the moment slightly terrifying and still made him want to get up and walk away – but he stayed still and bared the raw pain and found a little bit of comfort in the way she shaped her palm over the hitch in his jaw.

Annie had never wanted a man so bad, her eyes skimming over his defined features with eyes filled with awe. He was the one staring back at her – this beautiful design of a man with blue eyes that gave him a mysterious and sad air… he had confirmed that he was hers in the future. She could wait a little longer, if he himself had promised that it was worth it.

Her other hand found his chest and she twisted her fingers in his shirt, stomach churning nervously as they retrained themselves from doing anything they would have regretted. Boone needed to go slow and Annie could do that, slackening her grip but sliding her fingers to hold onto his strong shoulders.

His heart felt like it was going to combust, aching in his chest as he backed away from all the reasons that said 'go for it' (_you've done it once, big guy, you can do it again_). His hand felt around for a distraction, landing on the packet of smokes in his front pocket, latching onto the escape whole-heartedly as he was able to pull away from her.

"Cigarette?" He grunted. The girl's face faltered and then blanked out in a moment of self-service, rebooting with a bright smile a moment later.

"Thanks, Boone."


	33. Chapter 33

_Hello everyone~ _

_I hope everything is going well for you guys - especially those in parts of the world where things ain't going so great - and I wish you all safety and luck and everything under the sun to make it better._

_This update isn't as big as the earlier ones, but it's a crucial part of our story. Hope it doesn't wind you down too much ahaha. heh. ah. I thought I may be doing this too early but I've shuffled the plot around a bit and I like it better this way so here we go, dudettes. Anyway, I spent a week or so listening to Fleetwood Mac so if that says anything about how great this is going to be, well, then make a shit tonne of assumptions._

_No Questions Asked - Fleetwood Mac_

* * *

The storm calmed down early morning, rousing Boone with the softest light through the sand-caked windows. He shifted uneasily, nearly asleep from his graveyard shift and unfortunately numb from the stable position, breaking free from Annie's iron grip that had soldered her head to his arm. Rex was sleeping happily on the sniper's feet, which felt uncomfortable in semi-wet socks and tight boots. His whole body seemed to ache – his back for a soft bed and his brain for a cigarette.

When he forced himself into a stand, he lit himself a smoke and flicked the packet at Annie. It bounced from her chest – the courier sputtering awake with a soft gag and a loud groan.

"_Fuck_ me, is it morning _already_?" She groped around lazily for the packet, throwing her head back into the rotting walls. The smoke was soon curling from the end of the stick, burning tobacco spewing coils into the thick morning air. "You think Cliff has a pot of coffee on the boil down in Novac?"

"No doubt." The man answered, stretching his arms behind his back as Rex patted around his feet dopily, bouncing from side to side in excitement to be out of the cramped gas station. "It seems clear outside."

"Let me get up and we'll get moving then, I guess." Annie let out a big yawn, soaking smoke through the gaps in her teeth. The girl groaned again, stacking her legs beneath her to spring up to full height, body creaking uncomfortably as she clicked forward. They stiffly packed their things together, the courier sleepily pulling on armour as the sick feeling in her stomach attempted to have her throw up in an old freezer.

The world they stumbled out to seemed like something different – a purplish sky that sat over red sand while the rain dried off the lumps of cactus that pooled around them. The bodies they destroyed the night before were half buried by wet sand, glassy-eyed in their last hours of darkness before the flesh-eaters came out in daylight. The sun was sitting pretty in the distance, clouded yellow that sent a beautiful glow out to envelop the entire desert.

In the corner of his eye he could see the sniffling courier light up in the sunrise, reenergised by the sizzling light that she'd so desperately needed. She turned on the radio without a beat, flicking to Radio New Vegas to back up what seemed like a picture perfect morning.

There was a new wind in Annie, a skip in her step as they plodded back towards Boone's old home. It was like she had a new zest for life – purpose for whatever miserable plan she had… and every so often he would catch her running her eyes over him like a prize.

The road to Novac was quick and wet, sloping down slightly for them to curl around the still shut trash yard. Old Lady Gibson was still probably in bed, which gave them time to walk further down and set their stuff in their rooms and possibly chain-smoke until the old bitch opened up.

There were three dogs sniffing around the front gate as they passed, Rex bounding up to them to sniff back. Annie stopped to watch them as Boone kept an eye on the distance – checking around for another chance of a Legion ambush. The sniper urged the woman further with a wave of his hand, claiming Rex with a low whistle. The courier caught up slowly, slinking away from the dogs with a straight face that read of thought.

"Which one do you think Rex liked the most?"

"What?" He asked as they came up on Novac a few minutes later, attention caught by Manny Vargas hanging half out the mouth of the dinosaur with what seemed to be a tool kit. Cliff Briscoe had somehow managed to scale the creature, hanging from a rusty ladder on the side. Ranger Andy was below them, limping around to survey the damage of the rusted out foundation.

"Which one do you think Rex liked the most? Because that's the brain we'll get."

"You want to kill the dog he likes the most." The sniper said flatly, heading towards the fence to stare morbidly up at Dinky's snapped arm. The wind and rain must have finally taken its toll on the old pre-war structure, toppling the age-old thermometer sideways and into Cliff's bungalow.

"He won't remember it at all, though—will you, you ridiculous hybrid? Oh, no you wont." Annie was toddling up with the robo-dog, patting it gingerly between the ears as her eyes trailed up Boone's line of sight. The three men outside plus the straggling bystanders had caught sight of the weary travellers, eyes blaring down at them in the morning sun.

The people of Novac were still wary of Boone and Annie's partnership; spurring from the death of Jeannie-Mae a far few months back before any of the current fiasco had ever started. The two wanderers were the only real candidates for the murder (disappearing only moments later into the distance) of the desk clerk, but only after Manny snapped and searched his old partner's room did he find the bill of sale left folded neatly on the kitchen counter… He didn't blame his friend (termed loosely), but still couldn't grasp the idea of the unification of Boone and burnt-out Annie.

"Had a bit of a rough night?" The courier yelled up to Cliff Briscoe, the skinny man twisting in his position to get a better look at the two below. He adjusted his cap and laughed tiredly from his post, shaking his head. The sniper shifted in his place, glancing up to catch Manny's stare that stung a little.

"You could say that." The old man answered, lowering himself down a few rungs to jump down.

Boone and Annie trailed around through the chain link fence to stand in the main yard, coming to a rest in front of the innkeeper – the man cleaning dirt from his hands with an old rag. "You kids stayin' for a few days?"

"Just stopped in for a rest after that storm. Spent the night up in El Dorado." Annie drawled on happily, looking up at Boone with a wide grin.

"Did you clear those thugs outta there?" The old man squinted into the distance, the bright globe beaming brightly over the horizon and now mid-distance. "Been hassling travellers between the Strip and here."

"More than dead." Annie assured, peeking around the man to watch Ranger Andy tsk over broken pieces of metal. "Need a hand with Dinky?" She asked slowly, feeling a little bad for the town's only closest thing to a tourist attraction. They were always so proud of it too… "He looks like he's in bad shape."

"Oh, Dinky'll be fine." The man waved them off. "We just need some scrap metal to fix him back up. We're in a bit of a tight spot at the moment… we usually scavenge from the old Repconn Centre but those damn ghouls, see…"

Annie's eyes evened. "Oh… Those things." She looked up at her partner for a moment, who was staring back over at the hotel rooms – probably deciding which room he was going to stay in over Annie's trip away. After the night before he was really gagging for some alone time – wanting to lock himself away in his old home while he thought over whatever he had just agreed to the previous night. He couldn't register the feeling that had clamped down over his chest… it felt like fear but that was obviously an overreaction on his behalf. He put it down to plain guilt. "If you're really needing that scrap, Cliff, we can go and get rid of that ghoul problem for you. Shouldn't be too much of a problem with Boone there."

At the sound of his name Boone clicked back into conversation, accidentally burning his eyes into the older man's with a very stoic but icy blink. Briscoe sighed, rubbing the back of his head with the filthy rag before turning back around to take one last quick glance at Dinky.

"If you could, it would really help the effort."

The sniper clicked back down to his companion, greeted with a handshake of thanks off Cliff before the innkeeper flitted off back up his ladder. Annie was already off towards the steps towards her room, lugging her bag off her back to dig out the key. "What did you agree to?" Boone asked as he followed her up the stairs, catching the flicks of sand from her boots.

"We're gonna clear out that Repconn centre before we go."

"Ghouls."

"Ghouls." Annie confirmed, leaning on the wooden door as she turned the knob behind her back. "Just like our first date."

He shot her a very sour look as she backed in to the hotel room, suddenly smothered by month-old stale air and the smell of bloodied bandages that hadn't been cleaned from the bins. Ditching her pack on the bed, the courier got to work cleaning their earlier mess – left that way by a more-than-inebriated Boone and an over-boiled Annie.

The smell of stale blood was a little off-putting to the sniper, thoroughly relieved when Annie toddled down to the trash cans on the edge of town. He was left with the aching reminder of his last trip to Novac and then suddenly the stabbing reminder of his entire time in Novac. He hated the feeling the town gave him, but Annie was so intent on keeping the peace in her little independent campaign. He had doubts she would succeed but because all else had literally failed he had nothing to do but follow her.

Besides, the view wasn't too bad from where he was standing at the current moment. Still tangled in a web of young, pretty women with smart mouths and luring smiles (stronger, more intoxicating each time around), Boone suddenly found himself content with the idea of telling Annie about everything there was to him. If he had fallen asleep after their talk, he probably would have dreamed about how big her eyes were, and how filled they were with some goopy, awkward liquid that told him she was head-over-heels and too far-gone.

Perhaps he was also too far-gone. His brain attempted to flicker over the idea of Annie being rather unimpressed with his past—but he had seen how much she wanted him with his own eyes! Although, it was probably stupid to assume that Annie would still want him after she found out the intensity of what he had done. He never had even thought to tell Carla, never even touched the idea of it… Oh, what the hell was he doing? What in the god damn hell was he doing?

Annie returned to find the sniper staring at the empty picture frame on the wall behind her head, returning with two cracked cups of coffee from the hotel lobby. She slipped down beside him, setting the cup into his hands as she jostled the other onto the bedside – digging out a packet of smokes from her armour pocket.

"Mm?" She waved the box at him, catching his gaze and smiling brightly from the rim of the hot cup. He snatched them, lighting one quickly before passing it right back. "Thanks." She clasped it with her forefinger and middle, cocking her wrist out as she took another sip of the black liquid. "So, the plan is that we go and get that brain from that woman and then we store it in the fridge here while we go and clear out those ghouls… and then we help Cliff and the others put Dinky back together. Is that alright?"

"I thought we were leaving as soon as possible." He said flatly and she beamed brighter.

"Don't be like that – it's the least we can do. You are aware of what we did to Jeannie." The girl slanted lazily, attempting a small joke but ending up digging her heel into a festering wound. His face formed a frown and he took a stiff draw of his cigarette, the girl pulling a face from her cup. "It was warranted." She grunted from the rim. He grunted right back. "Sorry. Out of line."

"Yeah."

She sat forward a second, frowning into cigarette smoke.

"Hey, listen, because of that, I'm gonna let you have a nap while I go visit Old Lady Gibson." Annie squinted awkwardly at the man, who folded his right arm to wrap his smoke fingers around his bicep. He sipped his coffee quietly, in thought and not exactly mad just irked. "I'm gonna take a quick bath before I go out though – impress the old broad- you know- hah ah. Ah. Boone- alright, bath time."

She slinked away with her tail between her legs, leaving the man to contemplate in peace.

* * *

Slightly on edge from a price war with the old bitch up the road, Annie was heading back through the gates of Novac to go thrust a dog brain in her partner's face. She had claimed the brain of the dog that Rex had sniffed the most, pleased with her detective work on the case. Rex would be the best friend he could ever have.

With her little package wrapped in a rotting old cloth, the courier found herself crossing the same path as Manny Vargas. The man was worn down and slightly twitchy, skinnier than she remembered but still built like a brahmin. Rex was slinking around her legs as the woman greeted the ex-Khan with a swoop of her hand on his back.

"Vargas, how are you going?" She asked happily, brightened by the idea of a conversation that didn't really have the means to turn sour. Boone had been dreamier than usual that day, spurring from the lack of sleep and strange promise he had made her only hours before. Her heart jumped at the thought, beaming full of joy at the Hispanic man.

"Things are the same as always, Anna." The man answered tiredly, his natural voice still sounding constantly irritated. "Heard you were going to head up and clean out the Repconn facility today."

"Yeah, just gotta grab Boone and we'll head off." She smiled at him, adjusting the jar in her arms. The ex-Khan let his brow rise naturally, catching the courier's attention. "What?" She smiled up at him curiously, throwing him off-balance with that sweet smile had never really seen before.

"I just-" he let out a quick sigh that still sounded exasperated but exhausted and uncomfortable. There was a pause in the muggy Mojave air, the sniper shifting uneasily as he grew hot under the collar. The whole thought made him uneasy and Annie's unnatural stare that used to be silent but now lived and breathed in a sick and sad way gave him cold sweats "between me and Bitter-Root, we were the only two that it didn't really fuck up… you were always so close to the gang and to be—uh" he cut himself off roughly. "Not that Boone's a bad guy." He saved himself in a flap, although ignored by the already pondering courier. "I feel real bad, Anna. I really do."

Bitter-Root flashed an angry feeling inside of her stomach, remembering the boy to be shy and withdrawn and unnaturally good-natured for a full-blooded Khan. The Hispanic man in front of her began to shift foot-to-foot, counting his blessings and hoping to withdraw silently and go and collect the purified water like he had originally intended. There was something about the Vargas gene that loved to say directly what was on their mind and it got the whole family in trouble. Including Malcolm.

"What are you on about, Vargas?" Annie skittered out quickly, trying to pick up the conversation without seeming flustered. The thought of Bitter-Root put a rotten taste in her mouth and she didn't want Manny to know about it. Apparently they still kept in touch if they were talking about not being bothered by… what? There was a hot flash in her head and her temperature rose violently, sending a heat wave down her body.

The sniper watched her with a keen eye and thought over her words, watching on with a morbid curiosity as her focus began to dart all over his face in search for answers. He had seen that look before and it struck terror into his entire being as he remembered the last time he had been caught in an Annie bomb. He'd appeared to strike a sore nerve with his stupid mouth, bracing for a sickening beating in reflex from his teenage years. He could kill a man with no hesitation and his teenage nightmares still spooked the hell out of him… His mouth hung open with no words.

The courier took a few steps back, stumbling over a clump of weeds and almost losing her glass jar. The sniper watched her; still full of a bounty of secrets that Annie couldn't handle hearing – brown eyes jumping with her feet as she shot up the stairs and into the hotel room. The door slammed with a _bang _that shook the top floor.

Boone was greeted by the frame of a shuddering girl in a lovely purple dress that matched her face, hunched stiffly like a doll that plodded in on two unstable legs that seemed to be refusing to co-operate. She almost shone with sweat, radiating a fierce energy that swirled the room with an uncomfortable confusion.

She walked like she was melting, slopping over to the fridge to store the dog's brain as the newest owner curled up at the end of the bed – almost tripped over by the second sniper who had had a heart attack at the courier's arrival. Annie was suddenly pacing around the room, weighed down by the world visibly as she seemed to slump further to the ground with each step she took. Her knees began to wobble and fail and finally she gave up and splayed herself on the floor like a dead girl.

Boone was by her side in an instant, more worried for her health than he felt he should have. Her face was pale and her eyes were wider than plates as they skittered all over his face in sleepy horror.

"I'm numb all over." She said plainly as her eyes quickly bore into the faded carpet. They seemed to throb and dilate every time a hot flush came over her. "I think I'm just…" The man attempted to sit her up, investing in a lump of hot skin that was absolutely blistering with bewilderment. She rubbed the hole in her head with the flat, warm skin of her sweaty palm. "I'm mad."

"Mad?" He asked quietly.

"As in angry. I'm furious." She started to vibrate with an enthusiastic intensity, teeth beginning to chatter loudly as the shudders rolled across her back. "I was just talking to Manny and he started talking about a guy we used to know and the thought of the man just makes me so mad like I've-" She thought about it for a while, frozen in time as the man attempted to start his heart again. She was jumping so close to the topic he had contemplated the entire morning in his half-sleep.

Her eyes rolled over him and she pulled away, shakily tugging herself up on the fridge before staggering towards the bottle of liquor on the table. He followed her with his gaze, watching her path closely and cautiously like a scolded child watching his mother stalk the room. He was worried beyond belief, guilty beyond anything he had ever felt before and feeling more and more dead inside as the moment dragged on.

The courier seemed to be on the edge of the mystery, the ugly feeling finding it hard to find itself a name in the mottled brain that she had been carrying around for a couple of years. It was on the tip of her tongue – that horrible clench that was absolutely tearing at her stomach lining and was sucking all the blood from her legs and into her heart that was pounding like the tribal drums of a Saturday night-

Everything was on the tip of her tongue as her hands shook steadily to pour the liquid into the tumbler. Boone had pulled himself up behind her, greeted with the smell of her hair. All his senses were screaming and the only thing he could think of was how he would feel if she left and he never had the opportunity to smell her hair again. Far too deep, his mind shrieked over the warping sirens, far too fucking deep!

Things were peaking fast and the courier was beginning to piece together the disgusting muck in her stomach. The anger belonged to the NCR, throttled with a flash of red ferocity in her vision as her eyes drew over Boone's beret. Bitter-Root... Bitter… The skull on the patch was haunting in her mind, bouncing an idea of the origin of her hatred towards the new republic.

She sculled the drink and the burn of the juice tinged her throat – torched with a memory of whatever she had pushed away – forgotten so easily with the bullet to her brain. Everything was talking at once and she felt sick, bending softly at the stomach in attempt to ease the pain. Her partner didn't know what to do.

Through the glasses she could catch a small glint in Boone's eye, the one she had only ever seen a few times in their stint together… the first night in the dinosaur – the way he looked at her with such distaste and unimportance, still secretly and embarrassingly taken with the strange girl that peaked his fancy (and even then worried about the tug in his gut that wanted each and every bit of her)…

Or at the turn off to Bitter Springs after their days in the boatshed… how he was so ready to let her go and discover Bitter Springs. Like he had given up. Had he subconsciously decided to tell her that day after he had nearly died under her, watching the sweat drip down her bare back and onto his thighs… He had offered Bitter Springs as a thank you – a go ahead in a moment of weakness and appreciation.

He was so tortured all the time – a straight-laced sniper with a price to pay for the misdoings of his past. There was always something he would never tell her about Bitter Springs… he was there for something big. Something big at Bitter Springs… The NCR hated the Khans so much… Boone's note… Boone's note.

It clicked. The suddenness of it all clicked.

The world was sucked into a shiny blank void – screaming with white noise as all of Annie's senses peaked at once. The floodgates of her mind had torn open and were pouring information into her skull – barely keeping up with the rush of crying faces and piles of dead being placed into holes by her own shuddering hands. She had got there as soon as she heard.

The sniper watched the realisation hit her eyes, glassed over suddenly with the horrifying remembrance of the overwhelming guilt and pain that had been forgotten for far too long. She placed the cup down gently at first, absolutely numb with the rush of feelings that were throwing themselves around her shell like a rollercoaster that was wheeling out of control—ringing up goose bumps on each of her arms in sync with the swim.

Then she tugged her arm back and slugged him so hard in the chest that he had to take a few steps back to recuperate, attempting to recover all of his bearings that appeared to be leaking from the pulsating soul-crack that was invisibly dripping all over Annie's carpet. She ripped the beret from his head, caught by his hand quickly before she could pitch it on the ground and spit on it.

His breath choked from his chest as he spluttered, stretching up to keep the struggling Annie from her sudden militia against him. Although everything should have been serious and sharp, he felt the situation was more of a tussle of colours that seemed far too bright to be part of his life that was crumbling for the third time in the last ten years.

Annie was not giving up, fuelled by months of pent up anger directed towards the closest NCR figure she could get her hands on. She leant forward and dropped her weight, throwing the man off balance towards the bed. Although he would never hit the girl, Boone found it hard not to use force on the strong woman he had never figured for such a little beast. Annie was raging beneath him, joints screaming with pressure and pain as she attempted to throw him over.

He ended up tossing Annie onto the bed, bouncing the girl into a sort of stupor as she attempted to find her feet. Her neck creaked as she turned to face him again, like a wired doll aiming for her prey – and like a fighty bird she was back on her feet instantly, staggering back around to circle him angrily.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me, you asshole." She muttered unhappily at him. "It all makes sense now. You make sense now." Her finger prodded his chest sharply, his hands not even bothering to dart to catch them. "You think it was a good idea to keep this from me? I lose my god damn memory and you have the fucking balls to look me in the eye _every_ _day_ and not tell me!?"

Her chest sunk a little and she gasped for a breath as her eyes welled up with something that seemed like tears. They were crushed instantly, rolled under the sleeve of her dress that she had bunched around her thighs in a clenched fist. The other had snaked up to her mouth, teeth gnawing at the knuckles as she stared up at the man with a shrieking fire.

"You're worse than dirt, Boone." She bit at him in a throaty tone he hadn't heard in a while. It had been too long since he had heard that sultry voice that seduced him into throwing his drab Novac life away.

"Appropriate response." He forced out plainly and the courier's fingers opened and closed sharply over her face, nails digging into her cheeks and leaving little red marks. He could see the shuddering hatred roll from her shoulders to her hips, sending thrills down her legs to her foot that had been cocked back, bouncing it gently as the furious tapping kept a steady rhythm to their moment.

Her mouth opened again, attempting to scold and belittle him in a harsh way but failing at the tip of her throat. She was stuck by the rush of memories that left her feeling naked and numb – remembering the string of graves that rolled up towards the main camp. Those graves were her peers, her family, her childhood and her old life all shoved into dirt holes with sticks for stories... Children that she had actually met and taught… and the elderly who had taught her…

There was an intense rage circulating through Annie as she took a few steps back, palm slapping her thighs for her knife. The garter popped loose as she pulled it free, holding it close to her chest but still pointing it directly at him.

He could see down the invisible line, guiding him to the throbbing chest that almost twitched with each beat of her heart. There it was – the one part of Annie he never wanted to see. She looked strung-out, hands vibrating furiously as her fingers flexed around the knife – the blade shining a small, flickering ball of light onto the ceiling.

They caught each other's eye again, Annie jumping slightly at the foreign, hated feeling of Boone's gaze. She didn't want him to look at her; she didn't want him anywhere near her. The monster! She had trusted her life with him for all those months, when what she _should_ have been doing was throwing that fucker out of Dinky.

In fact, she _would_ do that. She would literally throw him out of the mouth of that god forsaken dinosaur and watch his head compact into a bloody stump right next to the old stain of Jeannie-Mae's. Then she would rinse her hands clean of him and go home. Yes. Yes. She'd burn all of her sheets and scrub herself raw of every place he had ever touched her.

Boone watched the woman press the flat side of her knife to her forehead, staring intently at a stain on the carpet with flashing brown eyes. She tapped it gently, bouncing the sharp point onto the little red welt in the corner of her head. She was thinking, still heaving with an ugly fury, but still thinking rather intently. Boone assumed it was her plan of action – the plan she usually made for her day. It probably went something like 'kill Boone – burn Boone's body – never come back'. He knew her, probably far too well, and that had killed him already.

The girl he had grown so dependant on was planning his death in her pretty little head. He had hated it for so long but it had become an obsession, charmed and tugged by the lewd voice that turned into soft sweetness so suddenly and soon everything felt just like it used to.

That sick feeling that never used to go away had returned again, after months of being MIA in Annie's bed. He could feel the twitch in his jaw that used to flare up when she made him mad, but this time he wasn't irritated in the least. He couldn't bring himself to hate her, even after the swipe at his beret. She had every right to treat him like dirt and he had to just take it – watch his life fall apart _again, _and the like last time he could only watch and stop nothing. It was too far-gone. It was over.

The woman let out a frustrated sigh as she pulled away from her embrace, cocking her wrist to shake the knife in thought before she snapped, pitching it straight at the bathroom wall. It bounced off the plaster and hit the carpet, rolling under the bed to remain forgotten forever.

"You're not sleeping in here tonight." She cleared her throat to catch his attention, his blue eyes snapping to her browns that were suddenly reigned in to only smouldering coals. "You're not sleeping with me again. And don't think you're leaving this fucking hotel any time soon." She pointed at him stiffly with a shaking finger. "We clear out Repconn and we leave. We owe this town that much." Her jaw was set, spitting orders like an angry dictator. The man could only take them, almost concerned about her dimmed mood. "And until then, I really don't want to look at you."

And then she climbed onto the middle of her bed and curled up into a ball, leaving the sniper to snatch his pack up and pace back to his bedroom. He passed Manny on the way, greeted with a cold and awkward shoulder as they crossed paths. Boone had a bad feeling that the whole thing had started with Manny, although he felt far too numb to confront the man about it. He was too stricken with what felt like a ten tonne anvil of guilt on his back.

The key wouldn't fit in the door at first, the sniper turning it over to force it stiffly into the lock. Boone was welcomed with the musky hug of his old room, still boarded up and boxy – blood stains on the floor that never came out and his bed still unmade and crumpled. He didn't know where to sit – the bed was too much and the couch was still covered in Carla's old clothes, smelling just like she used to bar the thin layer of dust coating all of them.

The radio was flicked on to kill the silence, crooning a sad tune that Annie hummed in her spare time. Regardless that the thought of her made him visibly cringe, he kept the old box on just to hear something familiar. He carried it with him, searching for a place to collapse.

Boone ended up choosing the bathroom, taking up shop at the foot of the door so he could box himself into the small room and smoke up the place, counting the rust spots on the dusty mirror above the sink. He sat like that for an hour or so – completely hollowed out and dead. There was a void in his body again, unplugged and gaping with complete and empty blackness. He'd lost Carla to it when he hadn't been looking, and Annie he felt just fell to her death due to her own thinking and conclusions.

He wondered if it would have been different if he had told her in the first place. He was so ashamed and angered by his actions that he never thought he would ever get there… but he wanted to open up – he had decided that a few minutes before she had burst in the door. The next time she was going to ask about Bitter Springs he was going to let her know. The information would have been hard to get out of him but he would have done it. He would have.

Boone had to assure himself that or he would have gone insane. How was he going to keep her safe and his mind on the job when all he could think and feel was guilt? He promised he would look after her- but then again that was probably revoked by now. He just wanted to keep the thoughts away… the ones that plagued him every time he thought of ever moving on. He had done a horrible and disgusting thing and all for only a lifetime of repression and shame.

The door to his room swung open quietly, shutting softly behind the feet of the shaky courier. Boone braced himself in his position, ready for her to come and end it. It was inevitable – and he deserved it. His pitiful life didn't justify a cruelty-free death at all.

She found him with his hand over his face, smoking a cigarette that desperately needed to be ashed. Her heart, still beating out of control, tugged towards him – aching and squeezing as the empty feeling in her stomach slushed around miserably. He was frozen with tension, boots pressed flat on the floor with his elbows on his knees, his strong face pressed into his palm as he shook his head softly.

The man at her feet was still the man she had grown so fond of. It was not his fault that even in immediate woe he still looked like a fallen deity. Annie wanted to hate all of him, tear him to shreds and then burn the parts like they were useless junk but she couldn't bring herself to. She should have dug that damn knife into his throat but she could only fling it at the wall. What had happened to her? She had sworn the ultimate revenge for the death of the innocents but it was she was a shitty fridge magnet up against the industrial version – sucked straight to him with her tunnel vision.

Because he was Boone… and Boone wasn't a monster. The shady man with the rough voice would never have done it all on purpose. Even though he didn't look it often, the sniper was a caring man who often put her safety above his own – regardless of her status and nature. He knew she was an old Khan, but he still stuck around – still defending her and taking care of her and even offering her his heart when he was done with it… the thought made a cool sting run down her spine.

She nudged him with her boot, catching his attention momentarily before he looked away, pressing his palms to the floor to lift himself up. "C'mon." she sniffed, arching her back out of the bathroom on track to the front door. "Let's get this over with."


	34. Chapter 34

_Hello ladies~_

_It has been a fair while since I have seen your beautiful faces but I assure you that things are starting to pull together with this story and soon we'll be getting right back on track and chugging back along on the Vegas train. Now, I would like to place a small amount of blame of my recent dabbling into the world of roleplaying (I honestly hadn't tried it before) - because I've been practising and roping things up and really putting some ideas into old Annie (is anyone still even reading this?)_

_If anyone is still confused by my writing, which I completely understand because sometimes I love to rabble, please let me know in any way shape or form because I'll go to the ends of the earth to help you or talk to you or even just stare at the computer screen in complete awe and content._

Can't Get Out of This Mood - Kay Kyser & his Orchestra

* * *

Annie was having trouble staying straight on the road to Repconn. It took everything in her not to turn back around and leave Boone to sort out the mess she had talked them into. It seemed only fair in her eyes, considering the man owed her the world at that moment.

The sky above was heavy with clouds once again, though it didn't appear to want to rain at all. Only the man above knew how much the Mojave needed the proper sunlight – everything soggy and simmering in the currently muggy air. Creaking and swaying in the soft wind, the rocket ship that loomed over them was a third presence; faded windows like leering eyes far above.

Annie's rage had simmered down quite quickly, a drawback to her hasty plans. There was nothing she could do to control what she felt, she understood that, but even though the thoughts were so intense and gruesome she couldn't bring herself to do anything about it at all. Annie was trapped by an overwhelming need to be rational towards Boone – her counterpart for how many months now – but still felt the festering anger spurt from whoever she used to be.

Boone was all she had known for what felt like a decent part of her (new) life. He was there when the rest wasn't, and that was hard to comprehend. Even if she had lived everything up until now, Boone was the oldest part of her new self. That woman who she used to be didn't feel like her any more. She was Annie – not Anna. But Anna was clawing back up her throat and into her mind again and it was unsettling.

She had been blessed with a hypersensitive body, the feel of the Mojave breeze on her cheeks like an irritating scratch across her already dry face. Her limbs felt like they were screwed on incorrectly and her brain seemed withered and sucked dry after the mass effort of keeping things calm. It did a good job, Annie had to agree, but even she couldn't stop the shivers in her hands.

A tribe of ghouls noticed them at Rex's growl, sprinting instantly towards the two only to be picked off by the crack of Boone's rifle a few feet behind Annie. The courier grimaced at the intrusive noise and headed forward, uncomfortable with the feeling of the man so close to her.

All she had to do was get Repconn cleaned out and then maybe they could get home and she could wander off with Veronica and Cass for a few days… maybe weeks… and maybe Boone would get the message and just leave. It would be easier.

The idea made her visibly cringe, shaking her head quickly to dismiss the idea. There was something simmering inside of her that was still tied to the man who had kept her safe regardless of whatever guilt he had sloshing around in his head. Boone wouldn't, and couldn't, bring himself to do anything bad – like a wasteland saint that kept his priorities straight – and the thought of him doing anything other than that was so confusing and hurtful.

She knew he wouldn't do that – _couldn't _do that – but he still had done it… and her mind had confirmed all the clues; Manny's sad eyes and Boone's stupid cryptic note that day he had crawled off to die… Her stomach was shredding itself at the idea of having to choose a happy medium. She wanted to destroy the NCR in the most foul and shameful way but Boone was-… Boone was the man she had grown to like. Like, a lot.

And Boone, regardless of his gut full of mess and wrongdoings, wouldn't allow her to start genocide. In fact, Boone would not be happy with her if she kicked Crocker's ass straight off the Strip. _But who the fuck cares what Boone thinks? _her mind snapped at her in a fit of anger and she pushed it back down, glad she hadn't eaten anything because it would have been rushing out of her throat.

The sniper picked off another fleshy mess, the body bouncing on the rubbled concrete past Annie's boots that walked calmly to the main doors.

"Anna." Boone grunted from behind her and turning around felt like pulling teeth. He was holding out the shotgun they had salvaged a few months back, extending it out as a precaution against whatever was in there. Although Annie made good use of her sledge, it was always worthwhile to have a little gunpowder backing her up. It put his mind at ease at least, making it easier to register the flicker of anger in her eyes at the sight of his face.

"Thanks." She took it and wrapped her fingers around the cool barrel softly, cocking it open to check the rounds. Already loaded. She could have shot him on the spot.

Instead, she turned on her heel and pressed through the door with the nudge of her gun; greeted with the shiny green flesh of a glowing one that was tall and thin with the dankest nails she had ever seen. With one quick shriek of surprise, the courier burst the bastard into chunks with the click of a trigger.

The fact that Annie was using her ammo on the ghouls and not him was promising – but then again he shouldn't have been hoping for much at all. He deserved everything she was to throw at him, and he knew it. But she looked so lovely in the afternoon sun with her bunched hair and newly stitched armour – so he followed along like he always did. Besides, from behind, she couldn't see him unhappily watching every part of her.

Another ghoul jumped out and screeched, earning a squeal from the courier and another pump of the lever – blood spattering all over the front desk of the looming centre. There was a scattering of dead bodies in the foyer, one in robes and one that appeared to be a jagged mess of nightkin.

"What the fuck is that thing doing here?" Annie asked no one in particular as she nudged its rotting leg. Her eyes brightened momentarily in a moment of forgetfulness, swinging around to Boone as if she was going to say something smart. Their eye contact made her realise her mistake, mouth gaping with the start of a word but fading into an angry cough. He looked away.

Annie didn't like super mutants. There was something about them that reminded them of her last partner – a looming man with a strange amount of strength born from a life of hard drugs. Nightkin seemed to be the same, spun out on stealth boys or something… All she knew is that as a child, her father had told her that if she ever ran away, mutants would take her. And that was not something the seven year old had needed to hear.

There was a low growl from Rex once again and Annie perked, pumping the lever on her gun awkwardly to find it had nothing inside. The ammunition was in her backpack, which was easy enough to grab but she could see the eerie light of the glowing one heading down the staircase towards them. The sniper, a man usually so precise and stoic, had lost himself in his thoughts about the courier.

The girl was driving him crazy – she was all he could think about. Everything should have been sharp and painful but she was the focus of his vision, like she had been highlighted in his line of view and remained the most important thing in his current state. He should have been shot and killed – he only wanted her when he couldn't have her. How sick was that?

"Oh for fucks- Boone!" Annie had to beat the ghoul off with the butt of her gun, slamming the wooden handle down so hard that it caved the feral's skull. The creature slumped to the ground as it twitched and gargled, arm torn off by a semi-playful Rex. She stepped away as she flung back around again, arm digging in the side pocket of her bag. "Quit moping, asshole, and keep an eye out!"

The kick in the right direction set the sniper back on track and his senses finally tuned into the atmosphere. He could hear soft footsteps on the landing above them and suddenly felt uneasy about the appearance of the nightkin. He had just left a town full of mutants, and it definitely seemed like they were following him.

Rex was gagging up the rotted flesh, licking the dusty floor to get the taste from his canine tongue as Annie stalked around the room, checking things out quickly and quietly with an ease Boone had never seen from her before. The nervous nature of her current state had smoothed all her shaky edges – mind forced to be on the matter in front of her and not on the gooey feelings she felt for the other swirling force in the room.

"Hey! Over here!" A voice crackled from the speaker on the side of the front door. Boone turned to find the noise, pacing towards the small box to listen intently. Annie had paused in her spot, halfway through picking a couple of caps from a floppy ghoul corpse. "Are you listening?" The two made silent eye contact, frozen in their place at the sudden intrusion. They thought they were alone. "Go to the big room on the east side of this building and take the metal staircase all the way up. And hurry."

"Who are you?" His thumb pressed the button and he leant in closer, slightly threatening but getting no fright from the speaker box. Annie walked over quietly, slowly appearing from behind Boone to peek a look at the voice.

"Get moving." It spat, firing the courier up and sanding the sniper down. Another mission they were sucked into by Annie's lack of initiative to stay on task. He knew she wanted to be away from him, but he also knew that Annie didn't liked being bossed around by a chunk of wires and metal.

The girl reloaded the shotgun unhappily before taking a glance at her pipboy, marking a spot on the screen with the twist of a dial. Another ghoul groaned from down the hall, sending Rex into a tizzy as Boone pulled his rifle from his back. He took the slimy bastard down before he could reach the stairs.

* * *

Somewhere deep in the basement of the Repconn testing facility, Annie and Boone had found themselves on some platform of hell. Talked into helping a bunch of ghouls by an incredibly charming zombie, the two were in the lower levels attempting to clean out the basement of 'demons'.

The demons being nightkin, no doubt. That ugly motherfucker in the lobby was more than a hint of what was to come – and Boone was not excited to have known that fact. Annie was a little more naïve on the subject, hinting at what could possibly be down there but still trying to hope for the best. The last time she had faced nightkin was when they were off rescuing Raul, and she came out of that with a popped shoulder and a rubbed-raw back.

Rex was left with the ghouls for the mission, Annie not too happy with the idea of setting the King's dog free into an environment swimming with big assholes who tore shit apart for the fun of it. Rex was happy to oblige, making friends with the only smoothskin in the Bright operation. Besides, if you looked closely at the pup you could see the decay on his brain spreading quietly over the ripples.

Boone knew a little more about the subject, having just come in from Jacobstown. Throughout his time up in mutant mountains, he had also learnt more about the nightkin and their need for stealth boys. The thought of those huge blue bastards having the ability to go invisible seemed a little unfair but he had a strange sort of faith that everything would end out like it should.

If he died, he died, and that would be more than okay. Annie could make her way back to Novac by herself – considering all the ghouls were no longer there to bother her… but after that, if a Legion assassination squad came from the distance, she was fucked…

_Well_, he would try to stay alive until she left him at her own will. Anyway, it wouldn't have felt right to close his eyes for the last time in a dark hallway with the girl who hated him so much. He had become so indecisive on the subject of his inevitable death that it almost seemed like he actually didn't want to die anymore. He wanted to stay it straight and follow the courier through to the end.

He must have let out a sigh because Annie was looking over her shoulder at him; eyes alight with some form of curiosity.

"Nightkin." He told her plainly and Annie nodded slowly, turning back around to face the front. She holstered the shotgun on her back and pulled her sledge free, spinning it unhappily in the palms of her hands.

"Didn't even get to go to fucking Jacobstown and still have to deal with god damn mutants…" She hissed miserably to herself, stepping lightly on the grated floor. Her pipboy was on her nose, checking for the familiar red ticks on the dial that decided her life. Nothing was appearing, but Boone swore he could see creases in the walls.

"I don't like the look of this place." He said flatly and she nodded, chewing her bottom lip in thought as her eyes registered a red flash on her dial. She gagged at the thought, feeling sick at the idea of the blue bastards floating around somewhere. What if they were invisible again?

"There's something down here." She watched the red tick pace back and forth. "That's for sure." She held out her arm without turning around to face him, the man stepping forward to take a quick glance as they turned to check the perimeter. The pipboy came in handy sometimes, when it wasn't blaring stupid music and alerting enemies of their position with its bright light.

The pressurised hiss of a door squealed around the basement, turning the two around to face the looming blue monster that was muttering to himself as he exited a room down the hall. Annie let out a yelp of terror, taking a step back to get into a proper stance. The mutant, alerted by Annie's cry, roared in a mixture of horror and rage, scaring the pants off of the courier and enabling Boone to fall to one knee and take a more-than-necessary shot at its head.

His lone bullet, however, was no match for the huge bastard's thick mutant skull, and only served enough purpose to make the roaring monster more horrified and enraged. With its deep red blood drawing down its face in thick streaks, the mutant took two steps back into the room and disappeared.

The shudder of a stealth boy kicking in vibrated through the basement, making Annie arch up and stiffen like a terrified cat. "Fuck me." She whispered to herself. "You can do this Annie… They're just big people… Big… Strong… Blue… People…" She spun the sledge in her palms again, swallowing deeply. Boone was reloading his gun with something stronger.

It was so dark and Boone didn't like the idea of keeping Annie's pipboy light on. That just made them sitting ducks. He wished he would have packed some CatEye, but then again he wasn't exactly expecting to end up in a creepy old basement with a girl who probably wouldn't have minded sacrificing him to a horde of mutants.

The door beside Annie squeaked open suddenly, the sides sliding into the walls to reveal a room that seemed packed to the brim with gore bags and shattered bones. Other than that, it was empty – free of all signs of life….

That thought made Annie lurch back, nearly bumping into Boone who had charged forward to line up a shot. The two were stumped by the blackness mixed with the possibility that all the enemies they were to face were probably already out there – staring at the two… waiting to rip them limb from limb and feast on their flesh and marrow and everything else in between- Annie's stomach lurched with fear and sickness.

Boone pushed her behind him, the girl rooted to the spot in fear of the lurking monsters that were coming to get her. She suddenly remembered the scary stories the older kids would tell her as they sat around the campfire – bothered by the idea that a super mutant could pick a person up and literally tear them in half.

There was a quick, booming cry that bounced off the walls; Boone's rifle firing from a distance to spatter an angry nightkin into vision. With blood seeping from its bulging thigh, the mutant took three steps forward and took a swing at the sniper with what looked like a chunk of cement stuck to some sticks. Whatever it was, Boone pressed out-of-the-way just in time to feel the shards of concrete spit at his boots.

Annie shrieked from behind him, bringing his attention to the second mutant that had reappeared; rather mad but slightly off-kilter from the bullet in his head. That one had a sledge that was the spitting image of Annie's, the girl crouching instantly to keep out of his line of vision.

"Boone!" She called, tugging the shotgun from her back to toss it to the man. He caught it with the tips of his fingers, rolling the barrel into his hands so he could pump and shoot. The _boom_ of the shot reverberated around the basement corridors, another two doors opening at the noise and a flickering roar of fury bursting towards them.

The mutant's head shattered all over the wall; slipping and dripping with chunks of blue skin drenched in red – little bits of brain resting at the foot of the wall as the swaying asshole above him rocked in his boots. He fell backwards with a large crash, Annie jumping back up to chuck Boone a box of ammunition while she still could.

With the first problem under wraps, Annie sprung into a full height of fury. Watching her partner nearly get his head smashed in by a blue motherfucker was not what she wanted to do that day – annoyed with herself that she had been talked into such a dangerous task. She couldn't help that even without skin, Jason Bright was still a handsome and charming man. This is why she needed Boone – he kept her head straight and on task (even if that meant him being the main focus of her sexual prowess… it had already saved them a lot of trouble)

While the sniper reloaded quickly in a crouch, Annie blurred past him to skim to the second stumbling mutant, brushing up against the wall to get behind the beast. He roared with such anger that it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand, the courier feeling a slight pinch of regret when he turned around to find her already halfway through a swing.

The nightkin raised its forearm in attempt to block, the sledge swinging at an alarmingly fast rate - snapping the bones easily with the crush of energy. There was a spatter and a spurt of blood; the monster wailing in anguish as Annie realised her strength for the first time in a while. The thing's arm had to be the size of one of her thighs.

It was too bad that she had been sucked up in a moment of pride, because the wailing monster reached out and grabbed her with his good arm. The two sledges dropped, abandoned and bouncing together to send heaving and heavy _clangs_ down the hallways. The mutant's fucked arm was wobbling like a rubber prosthetic, the pain pouring more coal onto the beast's already brightly burning rage. His heavy fingers were digging into her stomach – parts Annie never even knew she had were aching and crying and trying not to burst at the ever-tightening grip.

With her face reddening from the squeezing pressure, Annie choked and muttered and gasped as she attempted to pry the fat fingers from around her middle. She could feel her bones creaking and shrieking with pain, her legs losing all feeling as it lifted her up from the ground to give her a big shake. It roared incomprehensible nothings into her face, Annie's eyes bulging at her worst nightmare coming to life. She was like a sad little ragdoll in the grips of an angry toddler.

The pressure around her middle started to buckle, her eyes finding it hard to stay on one thing as her entire being readied itself for defeat. One large clench and the mutant could have forced her organs up her throat and out her mouth.

She slapped her thigh for her knife in one last attempt to fight, tears welling in her eyes when she found nothing. The last time she had seen it was when she head nearly thrown it at Boone… Boone! Where the fuck was Boone!?

Her prayers were answered when she was sprayed with a thin red mist, the grip around her waist slackening quite dramatically. Annie slid out of its grasp, her legs not expecting the sudden weight and crumbling miserably beneath her. Fat drops of warm blood pattered gently on her back, chest heaving and voice box weeping at the shock coursing through her. She lay still for a moment, softly sobbing into the grated floors.

Coughing and bubbling with spit, the courier rolled painfully onto her back to be greeted by the feet of Boone, who was standing over her slightly bent at the waist to check her injuries. From the outside she seemed fine, but by the way she clutched her stomach and cried a little he figured she had taken a fair bit of damage. "You alright?" He asked gruffly as a mutant started stomping towards them.

"I'll live." She groaned back, trying to pull herself upright before the next bastard came to hassle them. Her face was stained with the rain of blood from above, bangs pushed back and off her face that was crunched up in pain. There were small tears pushing through the red splats, Boone realising that it was the first time he had ever seen her cry. The idea made him furious; summoning an anger that had last appeared the night he killed Jeannie-Mae.

Bending at the middle to hunch himself under her arms, he dragged her into the room filled with gore bags and tucked her away out of sight, returning to the corridor only to blast the recently arrived bumbling asshole to bits. Annie was working on standing again, using the wall as a brace to pull herself up to full height. Her legs were shaky and her gut was screaming; even the soft rub of her cotton shirt under her amour was sending ripples of pain through her… but she did it.

There was a handgun on the table next to a bloody skull - the idea of a weapon that didn't need a close range quite appealing to the sluggish courier. She couldn't shoot for shit and her hands were shaking like a wet cat under a porch light, but she thought about Boone alone in the hallway with those monsters and she felt a tug of guilt in her already aching gut.

Finding the gun fully loaded was quite an experience, a smile pulling onto her face momentarily as she cocked the thing in her hands. Staggering back against the wall, the woman leant out into the corridor to find Boone reloading by her feet. There was a slink of stealth boy up ahead, Annie aiming awkwardly over the man's head.

Boone looked up at the girl who was leaning out over him, one hand clasped around the metal door to keep her upright and the other shaking furiously with what appeared to be a 10mm in its grip. She squeezed the trigger and the throwback pushed her a little, fingers going numb with the nerves that surged through her palms.

The bullet ricocheted off a pipe in the walls, bursting a small stream of pressurised water from the bent metal. The monster at the end of the hall bellowed unhappily and reappeared with the zap of a stealth boy – charging towards them with an almighty fury. With the extra vision, Boone was able to line up the bastard in his scope and easily pick him off. An animal skull rolled into an empty storeroom.

Annie had her nose back to her pipboy, spinning to the best of her ability to check all directions for any sight of red ticks. When the search came up clear, she huffed and puffed and leant against the metal door, sliding down painfully to come to a rest beside Boone – who was still mid-crouch and slightly terrified at the idea of having to get Annie out of there.

"I fucking hate mutants." She muttered unhappily to Boone and the man gave her a slightly pleased look – glad to know that she was still conscious enough to be herself. She threw her head back on the door and breathed heavily at the roof – shaking a little as the adrenalin began to wear off. Soon her face was streaked with tiny tears, eyes shut in attempt to avoid the sniper who was now unbuckling her armour.

He took her sudden silence as a bad thing – but Annie was only thinking. Her entire body throbbed and pulsed with circulation and it felt like her mind had been cleared of everything but Boone and herself. Her brain couldn't summon the burning hatred for the man, an unfortunate experience on her behalf because she had been so bent on ridding herself of him… but there he was – that hulking part of her life – running his hands across her stomach as she shuddered in pain.

After a while of soaking up his calming touch, she looked down to find him pressing the sharp end of a stimpack into her lower torso, picking the darkest spot of the huge purple bruise that was slowly sifting across her skin. There was a rush of fluid and a slight numbing of pain, chipping away at the iceberg of discomfort and misery that had taken up refuge inside of her.

Even after the prick of a second stimpack, Annie still felt like her body had been rolled-over by a brahmin. Her neck was stinging with whiplash and she had blood in her eyes and every time she breathed she could feel her skin stretch around her torso – shooting a dull but deep pain throughout her. If it were any worse she would have hurled in Boone's boots.

Annie fought her hands out of her lap, leading them blindly to the medkit strapped to the back of her waist. Boone had already opened his, watching her quietly as she attempted to snap it free from its holster. Her hands were vibrating like crazy, shakily unclipping the box to spill its insides on the ground.

Boone counted two stimpacks and a few bandages, a mentats container and a small pair of scissors. He grew annoyed at her lack of preparation but was swept with a small wave of horror as her scrambling hands settled on the small metal box.

She popped it open and the contents rattled with each shudder of her fingers. Boone counted three caps of buffout, a small handle of jet and what seemed to be chew tobacco. "Don't tell anyone at home about this." She hissed at him as her digits fought through the shakes and settled on two of the tablets. "If I find out you've told anyone I will wring your neck. I mean it."

Annie forced them into her mouth and swallowed sourly, gasping for air as she reached for the bottle of water in Boone's kit. Cracking the lid, she could barely get the lip of the plastic to her mouth to douse the dull taste of buffout. Handing him back the bottle silently, the girl returned to her mentats box to pluck out the jet – giving it a quick rattle before pressing to inhale lightly. The method seemed age-old in front of his eyes, watching her hands slow slightly and her pupils dilate softly.

Her neck craned so she could face him, the sniper watching the light euphoria fold over her face as the chemicals began to work their magic. "Med-X would be better but I'm not a fuckin' junkie." She explained tartly, scraping the taste from her tongue with her teeth as she watched her hands simmer softly; feeling refreshed and energised just enough to make it up the stairs from the basement. The man, who had watched the crumbling of his last pictorial of Annie's still-pending innocence, packed up their kits and stood quickly.

The girl sighed as she pushed up the wall, head cloudy and less irritated at her position in that moment. All that she could do was focus on the subject at hand – and that was getting out of there. Fuck Jason Bright. Fuck Repconn. Fuck super mutants. In fact, fuck Novac. She felt like she could walk back to the 38 and sleep it off. "Oh man, I haven't done this shit in a while." Annie's breath seeped through her teeth as she took her first steps, the noise coming from her shoes on metal playing like elevator music in her head. "Fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

* * *

With the sagging courier under his arm, Boone found himself trawling back to his old hometown. Cliff Briscoe greeted him with a medpack and another shoulder to sling Annie over – the woman conking out halfway along the road back. Once the jet wore off in the muggy air, Annie was forced to vomit a little stomach acid on the side of the road and continue half-assed back to Novac. She was drifting in and out of conscious by the time they had reached Cliff.

Manny was watching them from the mouth of the dinosaur, the purple sky above them making it difficult for the man to make out his ex-partner's face in the dark nest. By the time they made it to the courtyard, the Hispanic man was waiting for them, arms folded.

"What happened?" He asked Boone plainly, the man evening his eyes in attempt to avoid the topic.

"Mutants." Cliff Briscoe had already been filled in on the topic, slightly blown away at the thought of a tribe of nightkin living so close.

"Mutants?" Manny blanched uncomfortably. "What were they doing there?"

"No idea." Boone grunted back. "Anna got in the way of one."

"She won't be making it up the stairs, then." Cliff noted. "Are we putting her in your room, Craig?"

The man froze for a moment, uncomfortable with the idea of Annie being in Carla's bed. All of her old clothes were strewn across the mattress; still faintly coated in her perfume and the smell of her shampoo. He was rocked with the idea of giving up something he had kept for his own for so long. The silence was deafening to the point of the courier picking it up, the girl hiccupping awake to grouse unhappily. "Put me in Manny's room." She grunted.

"Is that…" Cliff drew off, looking at the younger man. "Is that okay with you, Manny?"

"That's fine." He answered, sending a look to his old best friend. Boone burnt with a sick feeling of hatred and discontent. There was a swirling storm in his head, spinning out of control and picking up memory-brahmins and blowing over long-term-goal windmills. Annie still hated him – and he still couldn't blame her! He needed to be sick somewhere… alone.

The men lugged the woman into the dark room, Manny clearing his pyjamas off of the bed so Annie could be laid over his mattress. Boone's stomach was turning uncomfortably at the idea of having her splayed out like a display; worrying about Manny's 'wandering' eyes and Cliff's few decades of being a bachelor. He had no reason to be worried, considering the two had something in common…

The other sniper was just floored to see Annie in such a vulnerable position. He hadn't seen her like that since a bad night in the ceremony circle – four against two (fists only) – Annie recycled greatly by a much larger man. He'd never imagined a person could throw-up so much blood, but he had seen it with his own eyes… a very personable Jack mopping her up with a hit of steady and a small rollie of natural bush.

He rested a knee on the bed, leaning over to unbuckle the straps of her leather armor. Boone felt hopeless, watching the man he hated so much get to touch the girl he felt he needed more than anything else in the world.

Did he just think that? He really _was_ going to be sick.

With his fingers rubbing his jaw, Boone wrapped his other arm around his chest and watched on quietly. What was happening to him? He had never been so jealous and angry and upset in his entire life - it was never like that with Carla! Carla was always so simple and she was _always_ his, but Annie… Annie was leaving! Annie was staying in an estranged man's bed for the night while he slept alone… But then again, maybe _he_ was the estranged man and she was seeking solace from whatever horrors he had set upon her.

Boone let out a noise that fell somewhere between an annoyed grunt and an upset groan, earning a small laugh from the girl on the bed and a sharp look from his old partner. He had to excuse himself momentarily, heading out to the front porch to light himself a smoke. Rough fingers massaged his eye sockets, pressing firmly into a pinch to hold the bridge of his nose. The guilt was going to drive him crazy.

Manny joined him a moment later, taking up a spot a few feet away from the sniper to light up his own cigarette. It was strange being alone together again – the men having spent a lot of time together in their earlier twenties. It was horrible trying to recall the feeling of friendship, but deep down Boone knew that Manny wasn't as upset about Carla's death as he should have been. It had been a year since she had… passed away… and the man beside him still didn't really have it in him to give Boone proper condolences.

"Anna's always gotten herself in this sort of shit." The younger man broke the silence, taking a long draw of his smoke to combat the silence. "No point in worrying about something she's been doing since she was twelve."

Boone stayed quiet, watching the colours deepen on the horizon. His eyes drifted back in the direction of Repconn, the place now an ugly part of his mind. He never wanted go back to that stupid place crawling with problems he had no part in…

He wanted to jump off Dinky when he realised that they had left Rex there.

"One night, Anna got into a fight with my cousin, Malcolm." Manny sounded comfortable, a trait he had always had around Boone. He spoke like they were still friends – like nothing had ever happened. "He fucked her up so bad that for a while we thought she'd died. Her skull must be reinforced with some tribal bullshit because she got back up like nothing had ever happened. Heard rumours she got shot in the head too… Got back up again, like before.

"She will be alright, Boone." He continued, sending the other man a smart grin. Boone simply watched the sky, face not changing as his mind fought over the idea of Manny knowing a little more about her than he did. It didn't seem fair, but the other sniper seemed willing to share. Hearing about the girl in a more positive, rational light seemed to calm his nerves a little – caught in a much brighter web of possibilities than the ones he was faced with in his mind.

"Mm."

"… Are you two… together?" Manny asked quietly, soft in nature but still slightly interested in an answer. He still could not wrap his head around the idea of those two being involved. It was so… odd. Annie was everything Boone had never looked for in a woman – the man always preferring the fairer women of the Strip to the harsh-tongued women of the desert.

Boone missed the opportune time to answer, trailing them into an awkward silence that allowed Manny to make all the assumptions he wanted. The older man was sucking down his cigarette like it was his life source – his head on fire with a complex range of everything under the sun. All of his old goals and all of his passions and hatred and burning desire were mixing and changing and intertwining with a boiling energy that was mottling his own morals. He was still torn between sitting beside her for the rest of the night and throwing himself off the balcony.

He couldn't bring himself to return to Carla's bed when he had such thoughts about Annie. He couldn't help that every part of him wanted to reach out and affect her the way she did him. Boone felt he knew Annie like the back of his hand but he should have read his own notes… she would have preferred him being honest with her from day one. She was an open book and he was padlocked shut. How was he so selfish to have very openly locked himself down in front of her? Christ, she was everything to him.

The thought sent a strange release down his legs, lifting a small amount of pressure from his mind. It felt good to admit it – even if it was only to himself – but she was literally everything that was left for him. Novac held nothing for him anymore, and the NCR was never getting him back… Carla was gone and all he had was Annie. And she wasn't happy with him.

Boone looked at his old partner and pulled his lips into a straight line. "Are you going back on shift?" He asked.

"No, I just finished."

There was a slight silence as the night sniper gave his plan a quick once over.

"I have to go back to Repconn." Boone nodded, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the dirt in front of them. "Keep an eye on her."

"Yeah?" Manny took a final draw and stepped back towards the room, followed by Boone who only returned to grab his gun. Boone took a fleeting glance at the woman who was gingerly sitting up on the bed, reeling back out into the darkening courtyard. The younger man, who was now leaning against the doorframe, stuck out his arm for a handshake. "You're coming back, right?"

The night sniper looked at the hand blankly, trailing his eyes back up to meet the very stoic stare of his old partner. He had no choice but to oblige the man.

"Yeah."


	35. Chapter 35

_Hello my friends!_

_I've been back editing and fixing up a few of the first parts, so all parts I've had my snippy little fingers all over have been marked with an __**EDIT**_

_I hope this part is to your liking. I'd love to hear from you all in the reviews section about this one - I'd like to know if I handled the situation correctly and if it was satisfactory and that I haven't royally fucked the plot by doing this. Not that it's a bad thing and all, I'm happy with it, but I understand that readers see things a lot different to the author. Also, any other questions can be sent to my personal message box - because I'm a chatty cathy some days and am trying to talk to more people!_

_Also, it's very late here for me but I wanted to get this out to you all - so if there are any errors I will more than definitely fix them when I wake up in the morning. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!_

The Mountain's High - Dick & Dee Dee

* * *

Annie had her singlet rolled up to her chest, running her rough fingers over the tender skin of her stomach. Everything seemed to wring with shock as her stomach ate away a part of itself in a chemical comedown. Manny was sitting on the side of the bed smoking a cigarette, studying the carpet down to the last fibre. He was feeling a little more than worried for Boone, his stomach panging with the ache of a missed friendship. It didn't feel right to be looking after his partner's new girl – even if she was included in a decently marked point of his life.

Both of them wanted Boone to come back for different reasons. Manny just missed the concept of having a good friend, and imagining him getting caught up in whatever Annie had gotten herself into, well… it wasn't exactly a nice thought. The courier, however, with her wide brown eyes that darted all over the damage, wanted the man to return home so she could put him to rot in his hotel room for the night.

Who even was that man? Was he really who he said he was? Craig Boone was imprinted in her head as someone trustworthy and strong, but right now he was the scum that lined Freeside's gutters after too much rain. Her face screwed up at the feeling of hatred dropping into her stomach, twisting her muscles painfully as she let out a small snuff of pain. She had to stop thinking about him.

There was something that still didn't sit right with her, and it had something to do with her and Manny. Boone, if he was the bloodthirsty NCR soldier that her brain told her he was, would not have stuck with them for so long while still burning with New Californian brainwashing. Surely Manny had expressed his guilt and pain over Bitter Springs… But taking Boone's zipped lips into consideration, she doubted the conversation lasted long… but still, there had to be something inside of that man that drove him to make things right with the two of them.

Boone had no other reason to be with Annie. Obviously he had started out with the intentions to end it all quickly and painfully, but the more he got to know and understand her the deeper they began to dig themselves. Soon it was the two of them standing in a large pit where there was no way out. The man who she thought he was was standing there in front of her - but all she could do was summon the preconceived vision of a monster.

Annie frowned at herself in the mirror and lowered her shirt. "I'm gonna get some fresh air." She told the man on the bed, painfully bending to pick up the dusty packet of smokes. Manny thought over the concept, pulling to his feet to join her. There was something about the darkness of the night that made it easier to talk to one another – and in their case, it really was a blessing.

Clicking the flint of Benny's lighter, Annie huffed in her first breath of normal chemicals for the day. The smoke burnt her throat and she coughed, the pain in her stomach throbbing angrily at her innocent movements. "Fuck me," she leant against the brick wall, slumping tiredly in her spot. "you'd think that after a few years of getting the shit kicked out of you you'd know how to handle a little pain."

"I don't think it works like that." The man sniffed a laugh at her, sending spirals of smoke down his shirt.

"Nothing works like it should out here," she grumbled back, folding her arm across her chest to take a drag of her cigarette. "I hate this fucking desert."

They stood in silence for a while, the moon sending down a ridiculous sheen across the bare courtyard in front of them. Even after a stressful day of attempting to shove feelings back into the artificial crevices in her mind, Annie's brain was able to bring back the idea of Bitter Springs. Maybe it was Manny's beret that set her off – the material looking the brightest of reds under the white light shining above them. How could he still wear that after everything he had been through?

She wished there was a way to turn everything off. Every few minutes she would remember something new about that horrible memory, be it the pinging burn of her tightening skin in the hot sun or how deep the splinters went in the palms of her hands after an afternoon of digging holes. Her stomach felt like it was constantly in a free fall, and mixed with the uncomfortable rotting of her torso the courier was left willing to curl up and disappear for a few days.

"Can I ask a question?" The man asked out of the blue, bringing Annie out of her bursting thoughts.

"You just asked one." She drawled plainly, bringing out a sigh from the sniper. They caught each other's gaze and she managed to bring up a genuine smile. "You don't have to ask to ask."

Manny shook his head, taking a quick draw of his smoke before crushing it under his boot. "I heard that you got shot in the head and don't remember much."

"That's not a question." Her lips pressed into a thin line, earning herself a stern look. "Who told you that?"

"It's a rumour. A tribal girl doesn't just climb her way to head of the Strip, does she?" He couldn't help but grin at that thought. As much as Anna liked to think herself true to her old word, he knew that her 19-year-old self would have junked the new 'Annie' by now. He watched her jaw tighten, a sigh forcing itself through her nose.

"Jessup and McMurphy fucked me with a shovel and got me shot." Pinching the bridge of her nose, the girl rolled her eyes back – withdrawing a breath through her teeth. She freed the pinch, throwing her palm up in a tired gesture. "Woke up feeling less than great, no idea who I am… crawl my way here only to find you. That's what triggered it all."

"I'm flattered." He said blandly.

"You shouldn't be." She grinned, "It's been a big couple of months and it's only just fucking starting." Her voice pitched at the end in a happy mask to patch over the bitterness.

"Not many people get to start a brand new life." Manny lit himself another cigarette, watching the girl crush her own in the grout of the brick wall. "You're not happy?" He asked.

The courier thought for a moment, digging through the pockets of the soft dress pants she had stolen from Manny's dresser. "No." She mumbled. "Not really." She looked up and caught his gaze, her lips tightening around the filter as she squinted at him. "Since when do you get to ask me all these personal questions?"

"Ever since you opened your mouth." He teased, glad that her more-than-frigid personality had melted away over the years. She lit the smoke silently.

Out of the three Vargas boys, Manny was the nicest one. Even if he was a complete prick when he was a teenager, the man always had the softest voice between him and Malcolm. The third cousin, who Annie remembered as Marco, died a few months after joining during a firefight with some fiends. It was hard to see Manny as a grown-up – the man now having a decent few inches on her – but through all of it Annie knew that he looked a lot more happier and healthier than he used to. The last registered memory of the man before the whole shebang mustered his skinny teenage body sitting on top of hers as he pried her mouth open to give Malcolm a little more space to spit – all just a part of their usual teenage shenanigans.

"Why'd you come here of all places?" Annie sent him a question before he could continue. "To Novac?"

"It was quiet." Manny smiled suddenly, warmed with the old memory of a new start. "Boone was looking for a place to take Carla and I suggested here. Nothing ever happens in Novac."

"Except for all of this shit." Annie grinned back, ignoring the idea of Boone completely. The man thought in a soft silence for a moment before mustering the courage to ask a question he'd been itching over for months.

"Did you have any part in Jeannie-Mae's death?" The man asked her quietly, not exactly angered by the situation but a little irritated that it was done so brutally. It wasn't the nicest wake up call to find his best friend had left and all that was left of him was an old woman rotting in the morning sun.

"Of course I did." Annie evened her eyes. "She sold his wife and kid to the Legion, Manny. It was warranted."

"Could have been cleaner about it." He turned to her and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't be an asshole." Pushing off the wall to rest her elbows next to his on the railings, the girl ashed her cigarette into the dirt in front of them. "You and I both know that that's the wasteland way to handle things."

The man cleared his throat unhappily, knowing that he could have been the one to help Boone out of his troubles. If he hadn't been such a second-rate friend about it all (so he was jealous of Carla, so what?), there was a good chance that Annie would never have come back here. As much as he wanted to appreciate the girl for all she was, there was no way she could ever top Boone.

"How'd you get him to… you know, move on?"

Annie looked up at him with a confused grimace and shrugged. "He hasn't. Not that I know of."

"So you're not..?"

"Not what?" Her eyes searched her old friend's and her mouth tightened into another thin line. "Oh, no. We're not." Folding a palm under chin, the girl braced herself gently in the soft breeze. "And just because you love him so much, I'll allow you to have him. Keep him here, or whatever." She finished bitterly and the man's eyes doubled in size.

"I don't love him!" He whispered harshly at her and she brightened at his bad mood. "He's a friend! I just want my friend back!" When he saw her eyes glaze over with her usual teasing, he stopped. She was just riling him up again. "… I asked him the same question before and he gave me a completely different answer, is what I was getting at."

The girl paused. "He said what?"

"He said nothing."

Annie snuffed a lazy sigh. "Sounds like him."

"Yes," Manny barked a short, sharp laugh in agreement "it does." He watched the cloud of disappointment seep over her face before settling himself, chewing the inside of his lip before shrugging meekly. "Maybe _you _love him."

"I don't love him!" She peaked unhappily. Her eyes evened at the sheen of joy that had crawled across his soft grin, arms folding across her chest as she flicked her smoke away. "And unless your life goal is to become the wastes' greatest relationship advisor, I'd suggest you'd shut your mouth before I cram my fist inside there."

Manny steadied his mind that was reeling from her sudden threat, not as worried as he could have been but cautious all the same. But when he saw the sopping look on her face he realised that she was still not a threat anymore. Perhaps the bullet to her brain readjusted her emotional scale. "I'm not trying to be an asshole." He clarified.

Annie pinched the skin on her wrist and stewed in her own thoughts, still nauseous about the idea of Boone returning. As much as she wanted to see his face again back safe and sound, she could feel her fingers twitching in anticipation of grinding his pretty fucking nose into the Bitter Springs sand.

She let out a pitiful groan. "I know." Her dirty palms snaked up to hollow out her eye sockets uncomfortably, attempting to smother the oncoming headache with a bit of physical pain. "I just don't know how to feel."

There were three loud booms that echoed across the desert at that moment. Annie, who was busy burying herself in her own self-doubt, peeked over her fingers to watch the sky alight with something brilliant. Manny had stiffened up beside her at the intrusion of noise, distracted by the lights of Ranger Andy's cabin flickering on. A roar of sound came after that, wafting over the region to fade out quite melodically into the distance.

The sky lit up with a deep purple as the thick rain clouds were illuminated by the roaring jet engines from what appeared to be a fleet of rockets. The heavy spacecrafts seemed to wobble in the night sky, lighting up Annie's eyes with a ridiculous fear of being the targeted range. But they managed to stay on track up through the dense fog above them – soaring off into god knows where for god knows why.

It took another ten minutes for the ringing in their ears to stop, the two barely able to make eye contact with each other before finally letting their captive breaths escape through their teeth. Annie was the first to look up, however, catching her comrade's attention with her blank face under the warm moon that had been swallowed by baby clouds. "Manny?" Her voice was quiet but almost sincerely hopeful. "Do you think Boone was in there?"

* * *

The walk back to the Lucky 38 was almost agonising (and Annie wasn't even counting the fact that it felt like someone had used her stomach as a tribal drum). Boone was just as quiet as usual, and countered with the courier's dire need to think about whatever was awaiting them back home left them both in a very unnecessary silence.

Her focus was more on the road home than anything. As Boone kept his eye on the distance, the girl was lost in thought over everything she had to do when she returned to her castle. With her mind busy with what seemed like more important things, the man would have been free from anything. Her mind was too busy to even register the blinding hatred for him.

There was something about her brain that had ticked over ever since her big revelation. It was like a hulking weight had been lifted from her shoulders, like her biggest memory had come back to her. Well, it had, and even if it was gruesome and gut-wrenchingly sad, Annie found herself with a higher understanding of her own self.

With the sickening feeling of Bitter Springs rolling over her, Annie finally remembered the drive and discourse of her life before her unfortunate execution. There was no solid memory of her realisation, just a sudden feeling of passion and unrest. She was not going to let any NCR bastard step on her again - and that included Crocker and Manny and most definitely Boone. Although their faces were all stained with regret and misery, there was a stern part in her brain that told her that there was an advantage to that.

She wasn't going to get anywhere in life without taking any chances – and this time Annie felt that her hand was going to pay off.

Now that Annie had her shit together, she was standing in her slip and stockings while sipping the dregs from a warm NukaCola. Cass, Veronica, Raul and Boone had been gathered in the dining room, the courier standing importantly at the head of the table like she had something to prove. Her pipboy was glowing with sweet amber, illuminating the piles of notes she had accumulated over her few days as a square-eyed freak.

"Alright guys, I have a job for you all."

"All of us?" Cass piped in with a cheerful note that was more than sarcastic.

"Each and every single one of you. I shouldn't say job, though." She thought for a moment, recounting her words quietly before reassuring herself. "I have a _mission _for all of you."

"My morale is suddenly at a record-breaking high, boss."

Annie cleared her throat blandly. "_Missions _that will help towards fighting the good fight. Now if we want shit to get better around here we have to start doing something… Unless anyone else has some ideas – which are more than welcome, don't let get me wrong."

"We're listening, Annie." Veronica soothed the girl gently and the courier sighed.

"Boone and Veronica, back to Jacobstown. Get Rex fixed before he shits himself and dies or something, please." With her pipboy cocked to her eye level, the girl scanned through her notes. Her eyes burnt with a steady, smouldering fire. "Cass, I'm probably gonna need an answer on that caravan soon because in the end, I can save a lot of time by just hiring someone else. If you're up for it, Raul and I will walk you to the Boomers and introduce you around. That's the main route I want out of it, whatever else you want to run around is fine by me."

The redhead stared at her for a short time, calculating ideas in her head through the foggy breath of whiskey vapour. Technically she had nothing to lose but her dignity being signed away under a caravan painted with Annie's name. Before Cass could reply in any way, the courier casually interrupted her with an easy voice.

"If you don't want to talk about it in front of the others, I understand that. I have a meeting to go to with the families in about an hour so I'll be away for a good amount of time. Something to think about."

Cass nodded sourly. "Sure."

"Alright, that's it. That's my big mission-giving ceremony. I really hope you all enjoyed it." Annie set her elbows down on the wooden frame of the chair, fingers lazily dipping down to pick at the woven cushions. "Any questions?"

"That's your big plan?" The redhead bumped in and Annie shrugged.

"More or less. I'll be able to figure out a little more after this meeting,ut right now I want to work on getting the King on our side and helping the Boomers out with their aeroplane." The courier's head bounced with her words, still fairly worn out from the trip home. Without Boone beside her in their bed, the previous night's sleep was broken and lonely. "Anything else?"

"One more thing, Boss," Raul interjected, still managing to look like a cheeky old man regardless of the fact that half his face was missing, "you look great in those curlers."

Annie scoffed with laughter and stood up straight, waving him off through the soft laughter that echoed from Cass and Veronica. Boone stood as still as a statue off to the side, watching the girl with his casually keen eye. He was back to being incredibly intimidated by her solid, sexy confidence that burnt through with the sultry, knowing tone of her voice.

With every inch of himself he hated how he felt, but at the same time he had really missed the way his chest would skip every time he saw the woman he liked. Now with Annie it was like a constant throb that left him in a bottomless free-fall, like his lungs had burst through his skin and breathing was finally easy. It was his heart that squeezed uncomfortably; leaving an ugly swamp of doubt in his stomach that didn't feel like going away.

The group excused themselves, scattering off around the suite to their respective rooms. Annie was left in the kitchen, rinsing out the glass bottle before leaving it to drip dry on the sink. Radio New Vegas was blaring from the guest bedroom, Cass and Veronica's voices burbling through the walls and setting Annie in a happy atmosphere.

Slipping through the common hallway to get to her master bedroom, the courier pinpointed her brain on getting ready. Fix up her face, pull on her blouse, button her jacket and slip up her skirt – clip up her shoes and tighten her garters and she was out of there… back to the filthy Strip that was her own.

Annie was caught by the guest bedroom's door, greeted by the last person she had really wanted to see. Boone knew it would happen – in fact, he actually lethargically bet himself that she would be on the other side of that door when he opened it. It was all part of the humiliating punishment that the universe had dealt him.

Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared and her tongue slipped out and licked her bottom lip. She had two choices – and only one of them told her to turn around and walk away. The other one, the stronger one, bid him into their old bedroom with the dull ring of Annie's unenthusiastic voice. "Come here."

Shutting the door behind them, she figured she might as well give him a small lecture on safety before sending him off to Jacobstown. Boone had a tendency to go somewhat suicidal when his feelings peaked, and if he felt anywhere near close to the way Annie felt about their situation, then she had a fair bit to worry about. If she were to send him off with Veronica, it would be wrong of her to let them leave without a stern warning to keep the scribe away from his blood-rain.

"No funny business here or back to Jacobstown, you hear me?" She pointed at him. "Even if you run into Caesar himself, I want to know that you won't drag Veronica into one of your quests for death."

He shook his head, lips twitching unhappily at her lack of faith in him. Not that he could exactly blame her… Watching her eyes attempting to keep their hard edge, the sniper wrestled with the idea of leaving the room. He couldn't bring his legs to move, because just having her talk down to him was better than nothing.

Was that pathetic? Probably. He hadn't been so interested and bound to someone since Carla and it was really hard to grasp. Boone figured he would have never felt that way again but there she was – the woman who had dragged the last thing on his mind straight back out into the open… and she didn't even want him anymore.

"I'm also gonna assume that you're staying here." The girl swallowed tightly. "That's okay, I'm not going to kick you out. You always have a bed here." Her nods were soft and uncertain. "Just know that any funny business and you're out on your ass."

He nodded gently, folding his arms across his chest as the girl puffed out her cheeks in thought. She seemed to want him to leave, but the soles of his boots were sewn to the carpet. He had to say something – at least try to, anyway. Even through his thick, murky coating of hatred and discontent, there flickered a tiny light that Annie had lit only a few nights ago.

Boone cleared his throat. "I was thinking-" he stopped himself, although far too late as Annie had already perked with welcome to his words. He hadn't said much to her for a while and she was waiting for him to slip up so she could write her name with his blood all over the Strip. "I want to go back to Bitter Springs."

The colour drained from her face. "Go _back_?" Her hands vibrated unhappily. "Go back to _Bitter Springs_? With _you_?"

His face stayed just as stony as his voice. "You said we would go together." It wasn't as if he was in the position to use a little guilt tactics, but it was all he could hope for just to have her speak to him.

"I know what I said!" She tittered with a tense jaw, stalking off to the corner of the room to tug on the sheer blouse she had dug out from the luxurious cupboard. "Don't you dare throw my words in my face, Boone." Her hands shook as she fiddled with the tied waist, huffing impatiently at her own lack of control. "Don't even make me reconsider my decision to let you stay here. You're a part of my _team, _you asshole – we're not friends anymore."

It stung more than it should have.

"What did you even think I was going to say to that?" She tied the knot awkwardly and bee-lined to her powder blue jacket that she felt was dipped in a small amount of luck. She needed it for her meeting – especially around the smarmy smooth-talkers that ruled over the families.

Tugging the jacket over her shoulders and adjusting the collar, the girl huffed at him. "It's alright Boone, let me throw everything down for you because you decided to lie to me and suddenly change your mind about everything. That's fine with me, it's not like my feelings are hurt and I've been ultimately betrayed and all. Hey, how about I just get on my fucking knees and suck your dick again – make it a real fucking party."

"Anna." He said sternly, irritated at her vulgarity.

"That's not my fucking name anymore."

"_Annie_." Boone's voice was dripping with a vulnerable plea, dampening the girl's mood with just the tone of his voice. He watched as the fire in her eyes simmered down, her angry posture curling into one of quiet despair.

Her voice stuck in her throat as she tried to speak again, cleared roughly with childish cough. Boone felt them both get sucked into the same feeling – the air suddenly thick with something he couldn't place. "Why didn't you tell me?" Annie managed to choke out. "What made you stop yourself?"

The man's jaw tensed gently, eying the soft mattress with dull eyes that sheened behind his glasses. It didn't feel right to have Annie use her soft voice and not be right beside her – available to her generous touch that he definitely needed in that moment. Maybe this was all part of fate's horrible revenge? Dangling Annie in front of him and tugging her away _just_ when he realised everything he liked about her.

It seemed like something karma was capable of.

The two stood in the strong silence while Annie vibrated with sorrow, her fingers slipping on the small buttons that were to hold her jacket together. She could barely fit the first one through the hole before Boone caught notice – heart falling and squeezing itself to death as he watched each shudder of her fingers mess up her hard work.

He placed all of his earnings on one daring bet and took a step forward, sweeping her hands away to make work of the fiddly buttons that slid beneath his fingers with slippery silk. Annie said nothing, but managed a grimace as she watched his hands make fast work of her clasps, tugging her jacket together like a caring husband. "Scared." He forced out when he noticed her gaze snap to his. "Scared that this would happen." He finished the last one, absent-mindedly rolling it between his forefinger and thumb to savour the moment. "And ashamed."

Annie let out a harsh breath of air from her nose. "I'm torn between kicking out a window in the penthouse and throwing you out of it, or letting you live a miserable life alone somewhere in the desert." She mumbled, reaching up to push away his hands that strayed longer than necessary.

"I don't blame you." He grunted back.

"You know what fucking annoys me the most, Boone?" She bit harshly, her voice still holding a small amount of pain. "The fact that I know you're not a bad person. I know what you're capable of and Bitter Springs shouldn't be one of them." Their eyes stayed glued together – Annie at a disadvantage as he was hidden behind tinted shades. "It doesn't change anything though."

"I know."

"Things are going to change from now on, Boone." She stepped back, backtracking herself to the soft ivory skirt that she had thrown over their old desk chair. Kicking her legs through it with an almost childlike precision, the girl zipped it up with a huff and started towards the mirror. "I'm not taking anymore shit from the NCR. I think I have a good enough reason to do that, don't you think?"

"I understand."

His eyes took in every part of her primping frame, watching as her scarred hands unrolled her layers of thick hair into ridiculous curls. "In the end I think it comes down to choice in our little dilemma." Her eyes caught his through the reflection, the man finally caving and removing his glasses to save face. "I'm trying to be fair here. I barely slept a fucking wink last night thinking all this through – to save us both a lot of time and pain."

Boone's heart skipped. Was she repealing her offer of a roof over his head? She seemed to soften at the sight of his blue eyes, her cheeks puffing out again as she tried to keep her edge.

"If I end up booting the NCR from this place, Boone, I need to know whose side you're on. Mine or theirs." Her fingers adjusted the curls gingerly, snapping up a container of powder to highlight her face with shaky digits. She stopped mid-puff, turning to him to receive his full answer. Even if she was putting him on the spot, she needed an answer. "The only way you get to stay is if you put your time into the good fight – _my _good fight. Not theirs. Go to Jacobstown with Veronica to think it over – but I'd like an answer when you get back."

Trying not to seem as floored as he was, the man straightened up when she took a step towards him. He was smothered by the smell of her freshly escaped hair – the air tinged with the floral scent of her shampoo. The universe wasn't making it easy on him. "And what if I stay?" He asked.

"Then you stay here with us. With me." Snapping the compact shut, she tossed it back onto the cupboard. "We go back to Bitter Springs and we fix ourselves right up." Annie's voice wavered. "But that's only if you're with me. You can't run right back to them when we're done."

Against his best wishes, his face still pulled into a sour grimace. "I'm not going back. There's nothing there for me."

Annie folded her fists to her hips and thought silently, staring up at him with a brief intentness that burnt into a wild passion. He'd hooked her – finally – a small weight lifting from his chest.

"I need to know that you're the man I know – not the man I was raised to hate." She almost wanted to grab his shoulders to make her point, but her body wouldn't allow her to make a move. "I need to know that if I take you to my home – my real home – you won't line up my family and execute them in front of their shallow graves."

He swallowed grimly. "No. No."

"It's going to be hard, Boone." Her eyes softened at the break in his voice. Even through the thick tension, the two could feel their auras pull together like they usually did – blending them both with each other's pain and horror. "It's really going to suck."

"It needs to be done." He told her sternly and her lips twitched with half a smile.

"Don't think you're off the hook yet, Boone." Annie prodded his chest, leaving a painful sting in his muscles. "One slip up and I'll gut you myself. I know you don't take me as seriously as you should, and that could be your downfall one day."

Boone could think of nothing to say to that, swallowing tightly before nodding at her. The girl seemed happy with his response, her eyes lighting up with a polite cheerfulness that clicked over in transition to 'Business Annie'.

"I'll see you when you get home, Boone." She told him. "Please take care of Veronica."

With another nod, the man excused himself from her room. Heading back towards the guest bedroom, the man felt weighed down by his split second decision. It wasn't as if he felt he had made the wrong choice – he was just hoping that he'd made the right one. He knew quite well that there wasn't any more to Annie than what he already knew – it was like every time she lay down in front of him his mind had secretly stored away a mass of knowledge that outlined every spec of her.

The only thing that confused him was her leniency. After swearing black and blue against everything she hated, Annie was laxer than he expected. He was cautious around the idea of the soft punishment he had received. It wasn't even a punishment, to be honest; he felt he had been forgiven in a wrongful way. Perhaps he wasn't forgiven at all, but was on a trial that would prove his loyalty to her.

That would make more sense – especially now that she had promised to join him to Bitter Springs. The thought was a little nerve-wracking but it was about time he and Annie made the trek back to the place that centred their lives. He wasn't ready to forgive himself just yet, but knowing there was a chance that Annie would – well, it probably was only a dream.

Twisting the knob, Boone stepped into the guest room to be greeted by three sets of eyes. The other companions sensed the tension between the courier and her partner, but didn't want to say anything until they knew the two had talked again. To Veronica, Boone seemed a lot less worried about something and it put her mind at ease – Cass' lips twitching into a smarmy smile that turned the sweetest cola the dankest sour.

"Kiss and make up, did we?"

He didn't even bother looking at her as he started to pack his bag, stacking cans of food around his medical kit that he had already filled with all the necessities. Jacobstown seemed like a small step towards his future, but for the first time in along while Boone felt like he had drive. And for some reason, he didn't dread the sun rising as much as he used to.


End file.
